


A Collection Of Unseen Moments

by UniverseOnHerShoulders



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2018-10-29 03:51:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 312
Words: 80,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10845912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UniverseOnHerShoulders/pseuds/UniverseOnHerShoulders
Summary: A collection of short drabbles based on prompts I've received on Tumblr.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> From the prompt:
> 
>  
> 
> _Clara reacting to the Doctor traveling with Bill? Bonus points for her reaction to the pictures on the Doctor's desk and Ashildr not releasing he was a grandfather?_

“So,” Clara leans against the doorframe, her arms folded as she looks over at him with a mischievous smile. “You’ve found a new one, then.”

“You make me sound like I’ve done something wrong,” the Doctor grouses, turning away from her and rearranging the pile of leather-bound books on his desk. “To be fair-”

“To be fair, you couldn’t remember me. I know,” she half smiles. “You kept your promise, that’s good. What’s she like?”

“Bill?” he shrugs, trying to look ambiguous. “Nice. Curious. Wanders off a lot.”

“Nosy?”

“Gay.”

Clara blinks at him in consternation. “Sorry, how are those two linked?”

“Well, she sees attractive women and she… follows.”

Clara looks at him for a moment, unsure if he’s joking or not. When she realises he’s serious, she bursts into laughter, crossing the room to him and enveloping him in a hug he protests to only minimally. “Hey,” she chides, as she turns her face to the side to avoid getting her makeup on his hoodie. “Where’s your photo of me?”

“Oh,” the tips of his ears turn red as he pulls away, and he rubs the back of his neck. “Urm. Well. Now you’re here, I suppose I should…”

“Take my photo?” she asks, then looks coquettish. “Clothed? Or otherwise?”

He ponders the question for a moment. “Clothed,” he says seriously. “Bill might fall in love with you otherwise.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara spends a lot of time daydreaming about teaching tiny Time Lords.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Clara being in her teaching job but something goes wrong one day or maybe she's dreaming, but her class are children version of the incarnations of the different Doctors. She also has to deal with Missy who winds her up as well a human version of the TARDIS who seems to tell stories backwards. (Can you tell I literally came up with this cause of the children’s work I'm doing?)_

Clara has a tendency to daydream in class. Mainly about there being fourteen little Time Lords in front of her, and dear god, they’re irritating. There’s One and Two, who are serious and rather tight-laced. They tend to sit in the corner and stare at her balefully, challenging whatever she says. Three is keen on mechanics and loud colours, so Clara tends to occupy him with colouring books and Lego sets, and she burns off his energy by teaching him Venusian Aikido. Four tends to sit in the middle of the room wrapped up in his scarf, beaming at Clara in a way she’s fairly certain is intended to be encouraging, but kind of gives her the creeps. Occasionally, he, Three and Five team up and tear around the classroom, Five brandishing a cricket bat as he does so and leaving Clara concerned for her globe and her abacus. Six is picked on by the others for his curls and his loud clothes, and he tries to pretend he isn’t bothered by this, but Clara knows better. Seven is tiny and enigmatic, and has a tendency to open his umbrella indoors and invoke Clara’s wrath. He gets around this by writing her short stories, which she keeps in a binder in her desk. Eight is rather serious and very interested in girls. Namely Clara. She spends a lot of time rolling her eyes at him. War… well, War spends a lot of time fighting with the other boys, and sulking. Nine spends most of his time trying to make peace with War, and with himself, as well as smuggling chips into class. Ten… well, Ten is a force of nature, twirling around in his long coat and shouting “allons-y!”, although he’s not entirely sure what it means. Eleven is the one to watch though - always distracting the other boys and talking at a thousand miles an hour, or eating strange combinations of foods. Clara loves him to pieces for it, but her favourite is Twelve, who is quiet and shy and tends to hide behind her legs at break times. He does a great deal of sums, and gazes at her adoringly. He also spends a great deal of time competing with Missy for Clara’s attention, because Missy is loud and raucous and breaks things a lot. Namely Clara’s storytelling machine, TARDIS, which the boys have spent the last six months trying to fix… and failing. Missy finds this hilarious.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor has an internal between his good and bad side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _The Doctor having an internal between his good and bad side? I think it happens more often than he'd ever let on, a bit like the Dream Lord and Cyber Planner, Twelve would be even worse with the whole "am I a good man?" situation in series 8 and then angry in series 9._

Not that he’d have admitted it to anyone (other than the TARDIS, and even then, it was a remarkably reluctant confession), but the Doctor spent a sizeable chunk of time sat in what constituted his bedroom, perched perfectly still on a faded, leather, wing-back armchair, his fingers steepled together and his eyes closed as he allowed his senses of good and evil to argue about whatever the present topic of interest was. The fact that that topic was generally Clara was frankly neither here nor there.

He would envisage his moral compass as two split personalities. Evil would perch on his left shoulder, clad all in a shade of overdramatic red and grinning like a lunatic. Good would sit on his right shoulder, clad in something that resembled a sheet, and looking about as pious as anyone with angry eyebrows could manage. He knows, of course, that this isn’t really how things work, but his past selves indulged in a lot of terrible human media, so this is how he imagines it to be.

“You know,” Evil would say conversationally. “Blowing up a planet would really impress Clara. She’d be so impressed, she might even have sex with us.”

“What a load of rubbish,” Good would scoff. “Clara would be scandalised. And we cannot entertain ideas of…  _that_  with her!”

“Why?”

“She’s our  _friend_.”

Evil would roll his eyes. “Yes. Because you got control of the gigantic one’s mouth and told her she wasn’t our boyfriend.”

“It was a moral choice.”

“It’s been causing a dry spell.”

“Can you two shut up?” he would try to interject, but they’d be away arguing before he could stop them. “Clara…”

“CLARA IS BEAUTIFUL,” Evil would screech. “SEDUCE HER! THINK OF ALL THE FUN WE COULD HAVE! THINK OF ALL THE THINGS WE COULD DO!”

Honestly. It was almost starting to seem like a good idea.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor looks at Clara like this sometimes. Only when she isn't looking, though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Please just write something for me about the way Twelve looks at Clara, I need it right now._

He looks at her like this sometimes. When she isn’t looking, or he thinks she isn’t. If he got caught looking at her like this, she’d smack him on the arm - not that he minded, of course, but sometimes he just wanted to admire her from afar. To look at her the way other Time Lords looked at event horizons, or the birth of stars. Because to him she was far more important than that, and far more beautiful. She was his own sun, his own gravity. She kept him from going out of his mind, and yet took him out of his mind just by holding his hand. She was fire and ice, she was sun and rain, she was a thousand different expressions and moods and feelings all at once. She took his breath away and made his hearts forget to beat just by speaking his name. She could make him forget how to reason. She could make him forget how to do anything other than smile at her like a young fool in love. Perhaps he was. He didn’t mind.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Twelve and Clara have to deal with the morning after the night before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt: 
> 
> _Twelve and Clara get drunk on a night out on an alien planet, Clara does some 'interesting' dancing in her famous leather jacket then produces to smoke, with the Doctor distracted by the TARDIS acting weird and complaining. The temperature drops overnight and the Doctor wakes up in a mess with the jacket over him to keep him warm while Clara asks if she smoked last night and why he's wearing her jacket? The Doctor declares that the planet of the parties isn't worth the time of day._

The Doctor cracked an eye open, looking across an unfamiliar darkened room and noticing Clara slumped in a plasticky armchair by the window, looking somewhat less than perky. He sat up in a panic, concerned about her despondent expression, and something slid to the floor from his torso. “Clara?” he asked in a worried voice. “Are you alright?”

She looked over at him and made a face. “Was I smoking last night?”

“Urm,” the Doctor blinked, casting his mind back to the night before and groping around on the floor for whatever it was he’d dropped. “Yes. I think so.” His hands closed around something on the bare floorboards, and he lifted it up, finding Clara’s leather jacket. 

“Oh,” she mumbled, turning pink. “That explains the taste. Why do you have my jacket?”

“I think you wanted to stop me from being cold.”

“That was nice of me,” she groaned, putting her hands over her face. “So hungover. Wanna die.”

“I told you that party planets are a bad idea.” 

“Yeah, alright. Shut up. TARDIS?”

“TARDIS.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post-apocalypse, and Twelve is still trying to do the right thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _It's a post-apocalyptic future, the TARDIS is pretty much dead but Twelve lives there, older and bearded, and still has his guitar and hoodie. He cares for an old and dementia ridden Jack Harkness. A student called Bill comes to help them out every so often. Then a young Time Lady shows up having run away from a facility, bringing trouble with her as she's hunted. The Doctor and Jack are forced back into action to help her, father/daughter between Twelve and girl (Inspired by the Logan trailer)_
> 
> Inspired by [this fic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3503111/chapters/7699637) by [Aimee](http://archiveofourown.org/users/MayFairy/pseuds/evilqueenofgallifrey).

“Jack?” Twelve pokes the aged immortal in the side, then bodily shakes him when the poking has no effect. “Jack, wake up.”

The younger man - although the matter is up for dispute, and before the American’s condition worsened, they would argue good-naturedly about it for hours - starts awake, blinking up at Twelve in confusion and swinging a fist towards the Time Lord’s face in reflexive self-defence. Twelve catches it in mid-air with a weary sigh, squeezing Jack’s fingers as a silent warning.

“None of that,” he chides, then begins the standard daily introduction he’s somehow got used to. “I’m Twelve. I look after you.”

“That’s a mighty strange name,” Jack says, tugging his arm back to his side and trying to flash a winning smile nonetheless. “But you seem a strange man. Why ‘Twelve’?”

“Because I’m the twelfth.”

“Of?”

“It’s not important.”

“Why did you wake me? Not that I’m not enjoying this chat, but…”

“Bill will be here soon. You like to talk to her, even though you don’t-”

“Who’s Bill?” Jack frowns a little, and Twelve tries to hide the way his shoulders sag. “Friend of yours?”

The aforementioned youngster comes bustling in then, saving Twelve the explanation and allowing him to move away and get himself together. “I’m Bill, and you should be up by now. You lazy sod.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Jack flashes a grin, all eyes and teeth, but the girl only rolls her eyes at his efforts. “Ma’am.”

“For the millionth time, you’re not my type.”

“I’m everyone’s type.”

“I’m gay,” Bill says emphatically. “The girl outside is much more my type, thanks.”

Twelve blinks at her, stupefied. “What girl outside?”

“I dunno,” Bill shrugs, setting down her backpack with a shrug. “Small, dark hair. Looked cagey as fuck. Pretty, though.”

“Oh, for Rassilon’s sake…” he mutters under his breath. “She’d better not want any food.” 

He ducks outside, preparing for an argument, or at the very least a disagreement. The dark-haired girl is leaning against the wall with a practiced air of nonchalance, and he feels his hearts drop to his boots.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he growls, and she flicks her hair over her shoulder, smirking.

“Nice to see you too, dad.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Twelve is still trying to do the right thing. It's a shame his daughter has other ideas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Part 2 of the Doctor’s daughter and Jack story?_
> 
> Inspired by [this fic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3503111/chapters/7699637) by [Aimee](http://archiveofourown.org/users/MayFairy/pseuds/evilqueenofgallifrey).

“Charlie, this whole damn apocalypse was  _your fault_ ,” he reminds her. “Remember? You, your mother, nuclear weapons… ringing any bells?”

“God, you’re so  _uptight_ ,” she whines, pouting in a way that she could get from him, or her mother, or both of them. “Mum sends her love, and her hate.”

“Tell your mother she can go to hell.”

“She already did that,” Charlie rolls her eyes. “Remember?”

“Look, what do you want?” Twelve snaps, losing patience with the teen’s attitude. “Other than to gloat, or whatever else it is your mother sent you to do?”

“To offer you a solution to Jack’s little issue,” Charlie says sweetly, and Twelve can only stare at her in shock. “Also to tell you that your pet human is cute.”

“Thanks!” Bill calls from inside, where she’s evidently eavesdropping. “You’re cute too!”

“Stop snooping,” Twelve instructs, then looks back at Charlie. “Solution?”

“You’ll have to go see mum to find out,” Charlie looks coy. “Don’t have any more sex though, please.”

Twelve grimaces. “Missy and I… no.”

“You said that last time.”

“So?”

“And the time before that. And the time before that.”

“…shut up.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Why do you always play that song on the guitar?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Bill asks the Doctor a lot of questions, eventually the deep stuff will come but the Doctor never expected this: "why do you wear a hoodie?" He also plays a song called Clara and of course during one of the tutor sessions that gets mentioned too: "why do you always play that song on the guitar?"_

“Why are you wearing a hoodie?” Bill asks one day, her head propped in her hands as she stares at him with something akin to confusion. “I mean, that looks like it’s from Primark or something.”

“It keeps me warm,” the Doctor says by way of explanation, strumming his guitar. “That’s why.”

“Well, why can’t you get some high-tech insulated space underwear? Then you could wear something a bit more dapper. Or go proper rock and roll to match the guitar. Which is a bit surplus to requirements, frankly, as you’re meant to be teaching me string theory. Not songs my parents danced to in the seventies.”

“String theory; songs; it’s all the same. All about rhythm.” His fingers pick out a familiar tune subconsciously. “All about feeling what you’re doing in your heart of hearts.”

“Then you must feel that song in your hearts,” Bill observes. “Cos you play it all the time.”

“Do I?” he stops playing; blinks at her instead. 

“Yeah, you do,” she’s not angry, he realises. Just curious. “What’s it called?”

“I think that it’s called,” the familiar ache in his head, as he tries to think of her. “Clara.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Twelve vs guitar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Twelve smashes his guitar in rage._

He’s spent the last three hours trying to play her song. His fingers keep hitting the wrong notes, and he can’t call her face to mind, so it’s a bad day. All the days since she’s gone have been bad days, but this one especially, because it would have been her thirty-first birthday. 

“Come on,” he says aloud, in a desperate tone. “Please. One memory. Anything.”

Nothing. 

He’s raised the guitar over his head and smashed it into the floor before he can stop himself, the wood splintering and the strings snapping as he repeats his actions over and over until he’s panting. 

“WHY?” he asks, and it’s then he realises he’s sobbing. “WHY?”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill finds a leather jacket in the TARDIS wardrobe, and broaches the topic with the Doctor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Bill looks in the TARDIS wardrobe and sees that leather jacket and a note attached to it saying in the Doctor's writing "I think its hers." She looks at it and wonders but thinks better of asking him, until during a lecture he plays that Clara song again and on a new guitar as well, leading her to ask about that too._

Bill wanders into the wardrobe with curiosity… once she finally succeeds in finding it, of course. The TARDIS didn’t seem too keen on helping her out on the whole directional front, but she’s here now, and she decides that’s what counts, so she won’t be holding a grudge. She looks around, then opts to start at the top of the cavernous room and work her way down the floors of clothes, because that seems logical enough, and so she ascends the worryingly rickety spiral staircase and narrows her eyes at a rack of dresses in various shades of red. 

“Nah,” she says aloud, mostly to herself and mostly in the hope that the TARDIS might take the hint and prove helpful. “Nah, not my thing at all.”

So she wanders off, fingers trailing over the edges of garments and her attention half-there, half-elsewhere, until her hand meets something cool and familiar. She yanks the item of clothing out unceremoniously by the hanger, finding herself squinting at a - frankly ridiculously tiny - black leather jacket, well-worn around the cuffs, and definitely not her size. But that isn’t what captures her attention. What does that is the note attached to the blue satin hanger, scrawled in the Doctor’s writing. At least, she thinks it’s his writing. She recognises it from her essays, but it looks rather smudged.

_I think this was hers._

She doesn’t know who “her” was, but she puts the jacket back where she found it and continues on with her search. Eventually settling on a dark dress and a small fascinator with a feather, she smiles and gets dressed, then heads back to where she thinks the console room is.

* * *

 

A week later, she sits in the Doctor’s office as he strums the last few bars of the song he picks out when he thinks she isn’t listening. She narrows her eyes, trying to look at him without looking, and that’s when she notices the guitar has changed.

“New guitar?” she blurts, before she can stop herself, and she wants to kick herself almost immediately.

He makes a non-committal noise that she takes to mean ‘yes.’

“What happened to the old one?”

“I lost my temper at it.”

“Why?”

“Because I forgot someone.”

“Some _one_?”

“Some _thing_ ,” he corrects, but pain flickers across his face nonetheless. “Something.” He repeats, with a little more conviction, but she isn’t fooled.

“Who?” Bill asks. “Who did you forget?”

“Nobody,” he insists, but Bill just arches an eyebrow, disbelieving. “Really.”

“Does this have anything to do with the tiny leather jacket you’re got hung in the wardrobe? Note and all? Who’d that belong to?”

“What?” he asks, blinking at her in shock, and she tries to smile in order to defuse the tension. “You…”

“Was this person vertically challenged, or…?” 

“You are  _never to go rooting around in there again_!” he snarls, and she flinches away, getting to her feet instinctively and readying herself to run. “The TARDIS will bring you what you need… you will not…  _how dare you_ …”

Bill begins to back towards the door, her hands held up in a placating manner. “I’m sorry,” she begins, panic on her face. “I’m sorry, I am… I just… I’ll go…”

His face falls as he realises he’s scared her, and his eyes widen with concern. “Bill, you don’t have to…”

She slams the door behind her, and races outside before he can follow.

* * *

 

“I’m sorry,” he says, plonking down next to her some hours later. She’s not entirely sure how he tracked her here, and she’s not entirely sure she wants to know. “For losing my temper.”

“You loved her, didn’t you?” Bill observes, and the bravado on his face dissolves, replaced with something akin to grief. “Whoever she was.”

“I did,” he says quietly. “Her name was Clara.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara introduces her girlfriend to the Doctor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Clara introducing a girlfriend to Twelve and Twelve taking a minute to process it, only just realising Clara IS actually bi. Girl is quite a bit taller than Clara with light brown/dark blonde hair. Cute height difference that Twelve would take the p out of just because he's so stunned that he can't think of anything more offensive to say than that. He actually finds it quite cute._

“Doctor,” Clara takes a deep breath, steeling herself for the words she’s about to say. “This is Steph. My girlfriend.”

The Doctor looks at her for a long minute, then at the woman stood by her side, then back at Clara. Clara squeezes Steph’s hand, looking to her nervously as the Doctor made his mental calculations. 

“Well, that’s unacceptable,” he says after a moment, scowling at the two of them. “Nope.”

“What?!” Clara’s face falls, and she feels her stomach drop. “How dare-”

“She’s so much taller than you, you look tiny.”

“I’m sorry?!”

“What?!”

Steph is trying - and failing - to suppress a giggle. 

“It… we make it work!” Clara protests, turning a spectacular shade of red. “It’s not… so you’re not…  _weird_  about the fact she’s a girl?”

“Why would I be weird about that? She’s a girl, so what?” 

“You’re…” she relaxes then, beaming at him happily. “Very sweet.”

“Nice to meet you, Steph,” the Doctor says, with what passes as warmth from him. “I’m the Doctor. I travel in space and time.”

“I like you already,” Steph enthuses. “Pleased to meet you.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Master and Clara go on a roadtrip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _The Master (Simm’s) has to go on a road trip but has to do it with Clara and he can't hurt her otherwise the Doctor will trap him away with no escape?_

“Hang on,” Clara said for the third GODDAMN time in as many minutes. “So let me get this straight. You can’t harm me in ANY way?”

“No,” he said through gritted teeth, his fingers itching for his laser screwdriver. “I can’t. More’s the pity.”

“Now, that’s not nice,” she pouted. For Rassilon’s sake. If she kept doing that, might have to ‘accidentally’ crash the car. “I might have to tell the Doctor.” 

“You do that.”

“I will,” she poked her tongue out at him, and he shuddered. “Can I listen to my Steps CD?”

“No.”

She widened her eyes at him slightly and adopted a lisping tone. “'Oh Doctor. Your bestest pal caused me emotional harm by not letting me listen to my Steps CD.’”

“Oh, for the love of…” he shuddered. “Fine. Put the damn CD on.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill isn't entirely sure who the two brunettes are, but they're cute, and that's what matters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From [Aimee's](http://archiveofourown.org/users/MayFairy/pseuds/evilqueenofgallifrey) prompt:
> 
> _Prompt idea, if you wanna: Bill running into Clara and Ashildr while on an alien planet and separated from the Doctor (you decide if they know who she is or not, though I reckon they would), and it's a nice show of gay appreciation for each other all round._

Bill isn’t entirely sure who the two women are, or why she’s following them through an alien bazaar on a planet whose name she can’t pronounce. Well. She knows the answer to the second question: they’re both cute, countered only slightly by the fact that they also look shifty as hell. The first largely negates the second, to the point where it’s not until she’s wandered off after them that she realises she’s lost the Doctor, and she’s alone with them in a back street. Normally being alone with two beautiful women in a deserted place would be a cause for celebration, but these two look like women who Do Not Want To Be Followed, and Bill feels a tiny stab of panic. Only tiny, though, because the two women are laughing, and one is tossing her hair, and frankly it’s unfairly distracting.

She takes out her phone and tries to look subtle as she keeps following them. She’s not quite sure why she does that. Thirst, possibly. That, or stupidity. She’s trying to aim for nonchalant, and she thinks she’s succeeding, until they stop walking unexpectedly, and she crashes into the back of the more petite one.

“Hello,” the woman says kindly, and Bill’s heart stops, because women this attractive do not usually talk to chip girls. “You’re Bill, aren’t you?”

“Urm,” Bill says, blinking stupidly. “Yeah.” 

“I’m-”

“This is a bad idea,” the more sullen one pipes up, scowling almightily. “You shouldn’t tell her, you know who she is.”

Somewhere in the back of Bill’s mind, she wonders how and why they know this. All concern is out of the window though, because the one with enormous brown eyes is still smiling at her.

“Yes, and I trust her. And I want her to trust us.”

“ _Spy_  for us, you mean.” 

“Urm,” Bill says again, trying to appear intelligent. “Spy on who? The Doctor?”

“My friend has this wonderful idea that you could text her from time to time and tell her how he’s doing,” the moody one says snidely. “My friend, however, is an idiot.”

“Why would I do that?” Bill asks, before any arguments can erupt. Not that she’d mind watching one. “He’s not that interesting.”

“He is to me,” the kind one says. “Very much so.”

“In a love interest way, or a murder target way?”

 _Please say the latter,_  she prays selfishly.  _Please_.

“Well,” the woman looks awkward. “It’s complicated.”

“Oh,” Bill’s face falls. “You like him?”

“Yes,” she shrugs, like it’s no big deal. “But it’s been two hundred years, and if I’m being honest, I’m not averse to you, not at all. You’re actually pretty cute.”

Bill grins. “What’s your name? I mean, if I’m gonna spy, then I’ll need to save your number.”

“Clara,” the woman says, and her friend thumps her in the arm. “Ow.”

The complaint sounds oddly fake, and the smirk that passes between the two women is bizarre, but Bill isn’t concentrating much on that, because this woman - Clara - is going to give her her number. Jesus Christ.

“And I’m Ashildr,” the sullen one says. “Thanks for asking.”

“Sullen isn’t my type,” Bill quips before she can stop herself. “Sorry.”

“And your type is?” Clara asks, and the smirk on her face has changed. 

“Petite women with cute brown eyes.”

Oh god. She’s flirting. She’s not good at it, but never mind.

Clara only smiles in response and reaches for Bill’s phone, inputting a phone number and then handing it back. “There,” she says, with a subtle wink. “For spying… or… other things. Gotta run, I’m afraid. Don’t mention seeing me to the Doctor, yeah? He gets… well, just don’t. Or I won’t be answering your calls.”

Bill nods, then grins giddily as the two women leave.

Seems like her luck with women might be changing.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara has a panic attack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Clara has a panic attack._

The Doctor is minding his own business in his workshop, tinkering with a clockwork squirrel, when there’s a sharp spike of pain in his temple that he understands to be the TARDIS’s way of attracting his attention. 

“Ow,” he says obliquely, looking up at the ceiling and attempting to look wounded by his ship’s actions. “That hurts. You don’t have to keep doing th-”

 _The One with the Eyes,_ comes the odd, sibilant voice in his head, silencing his protests at once.  _She is troubled._

“What do you mean, ‘troubled’?” he asks, narrowing his eyes and feeling a flutter of worry in his chest. “Troubled how?”

A vision then, in his mind’s eye: Clara, curled up on her bed, her breath coming in short, fast pants as she sobs uncontrollably. She looks as if she’s drowning as she gasps for air and chokes on what little she manages to claw into her lungs. He doesn’t completely understand what’s happening to her, but he doesn’t have to. Clara needs him, and that’s enough. He drops his tools and bolts from the room before they can hit the floor, the TARDIS guiding him to where he needs to be, and he races through the door of Clara’s bedroom without knocking. 

“Clara?” he asks, and the drowning-not-drowning figure of his companion barely so much as glances at him, let alone reprimands him for his lack of manners. His hearts stop. This is serious. “Clara? What’s happening?”

“Nothing,” she says in a tight voice, squeezing her eyes shut and taking another gasping, useless breath. “M’fine.”

“No, you’re not,” he sits beside her and places one tentative hand on her shuddering back. A flash of her panic lances through his mind’s eye, and the feeling of being unable to breathe. A panic attack, he reads from her, without her usual informed consent, but these circumstances seem extenuating. He’s read about panic attacks, lifetimes ago. He remembers what to do. 

_Can’t breathe can’t breathe can’t breathe can’t-_

“M’ok,” Clara says again, in contrast with her inner monologue, but she’s trembling, and he realises she’s covered in a cold sweat. “M’fine.”

"No,” he says quietly, and draws her onto his lap before she can protest. He arranges her against his torso with the utmost gentleness, resting her head over one of his hearts, then encircles her with his arms to anchor her to reality. “Breathe for me, Clara.”

“Can’t.”

“Yes, you can. Breathe in with me.”

He takes a deep breath, and she copies after a moment. He nods encouragingly.

“And out.”

He exhales, and she mirrors the movement, her shoulders slumping.

“In,” he says again, half-smiling at her as her eyes find his face. “And out.”

He doesn’t know how long he sits with her in his arms, instructing her to breathe. When she’s stopped seeming like she’s drowning, she nudges her head into the space between his collarbone and his shoulder, and he senses rather than sees her swiping away her tears. She’s shivering now, and he adjusts his body temperature a few degrees, not wanting her to catch a chill. 

“You’re safe,” he promises her, as her hands come up to hold onto his lapels for comfort. “You’re safe, and I’ve got you.” 

“M’sorry,” she mumbles, and he courteously ignores how tearful she sounds. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he murmurs, and she cuddles closer to him. “We all need someone to hold on to.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The journal is unremarkable, except for the name inside the cover. _C Oswald._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _The Doctor finds a journal from one Clara Oswald. It makes interesting reading..._

The Doctor isn’t sure where the journal came from. He just knows that it wasn’t on the console room bookshelf, and then it was. He’d call it magic, but he isn’t that sentimental, or illogical. Instead, he attributes it to science, then plonks himself down in the reading chair and skims through the pages of dimly familiar handwriting, before realising that it would probably be a good idea to start at the beginning.

_Property of C Oswald._

It’s written neatly on the first page in sloping handwriting, and his heart stops. It’s hers. This diary was hers, and the grief is almost too much to stand, so he skips to the very last page to face the pain head on. 

_I’m going to tell him. It’s been so bloody long and he’s so totally oblivious to every damn effort I make. I’ve tried and tried and tried to say it without saying the actual words, but… I can’t. Oh Danny, I’m sorry, but I love him and I need to tell him because I can’t live my life like this. I need him to know how I feel, and I need to know how he feels, because this is a more than I can take. He wants to go to the second most beautiful garden in all of time and space, so I’ll tell him then. It’ll be the perfect place… I hope. Let me be brave. I can do this. I can._

He puts his head in his hands and fights back tears, understanding at last, and hating himself for it. 

“Oh, my Clara,” he murmurs. “I’m so sorry.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ashildr isn't sure who the gangly, bow-tied idiot in the cell with her is, but he's annoying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Ashildr meets the Eleventh Doctor but neither of them know the other until Ashildr finds out later that it was a younger version._

Ashildr isn’t entirely sure who the blithering idiot in the cell with her is. He’s all long arms and endless legs and gangly, pubescent awkwardness. Not to mention the  _talking_. Dear god, the talking. He’s not shut up for longer than ten seconds since the door slammed shut behind them - which was four hours ago. Four hours, but it feels like four days. 

Add to the equation that the ludicrous excuse for a man is wearing a bowtie, and really... she can’t help but hate him. It seems nothing less than fair. He looks like a poncy twit, with his tweed and his elbow patches, and his chin, and she takes to scowling at him as darkly as possible in the hope it might discourage him from blathering on about... well, anything and everything that enters his brain, which is currently an entirely unnecessary explanation of the ruling class’s legal system.

“I know,” she interrupts, baring her teeth at him in the kind of smile that would make lesser men cower. To her great disappointment, he only grins back. “I invented it.”

He doesn’t - to his credit - patronise her as other men might. She’s already discerned he’s a man out of place in time, and she’s grateful for that in that instant. That’s a first. The last prick she met who was in a similar situation was responsible for her current predicament. 

“So,” he asks, rocking back on his heels and beaming with a sickening amount of sincerity. “How are we going to escape?”

* * *

 

When she finally encounters the Doctor again, it’s in a dive bar in the late 2010s. He’s sat at the back of the room, glaring at the assorted patrons and nursing a whiskey. The eyebrows are being utilised to their maximum effect, and she’s almost glad to see him. Almost. 

“Nice to see you again,” he says, and she’s surprised to find he means it. “Liking the brooding look. Haven’t updated that recently, then?”

“Well, you don’t change,” she shot back, and she realises how angry she sounds. “Hoodie and Doc Martens.”

“It’s better than the last version of me,” he makes a face. “That version was all bow-ties and hair.”

She blinks at him. “Bow-ties?”

“Yeah, and limbs that went on for days. It was a mess. Youthful exuberance and poor coordination made for a bad mix.”

“You  _arsehole_ ,” she snaps once she makes the connection. “You  _left me in a goddamn cell_.”

“I...” his eyes widen as the penny drops. “Ah. That was... oops. My mistake.”

“You  _wanker_.”

“I’m sorry!” he protests again. “Look, I’ll buy you a drink, and you can insult me some more.”

She considers the offer for a moment. “Fine,” she says eventually. “But make it a double.”


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor thought he knew Clara Oswald inside-out. He was wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _It turns out Clara is really evil when she takes the Doctor prisoner and flirts with him while the Master returns. She explains she'll take her place at her Master's side, the Doctor warns her of the last time he took a wife but she says she can control the Master as she knows how to manipulate Time Lords. The Master, well he's no different, except he can make her queen of the universe._

The Doctor isn’t entirely sure how he came to be lying on the concrete floor of an otherwise nondescript cell, but it’s far from being a new occurrence. He’s not entirely sure why he’s in chains, either, but he figures that whenever he’s usually locked up, Clara is generally with him, so he turns his head to the side in search of her so that they can develop a plan to escape. But he finds nothing on his right, and nothing on his left either, which means she must be locked up somewhere else, and his hearts skip a beat in panic at the thought of what their unknown jailers may be doing to her. 

“I’m up here,” comes a cold voice, and he looks up to find Clara stood in the doorway, eyes icy and her mouth set in a cruel smirk. Which would be disturbing in itself, but she’s also unfettered by chains, and seems wholly unmoved by the situation at hand. “You really are such a trusting little fool sometimes.”

“I...” he stammers, and it’s then that he notices the dull ache in his cheek. He reaches up and probes at it experimentally, finding dried blood and broken skin. “What hit me?”

“I did,” she says with unwavering composure, and as he looks up at her he becomes aware of the same dull ache throughout his body. “You were trying to get away, and I couldn’t have that. You bled all over my hand. I let the guards have a little longer with you, for that.”

“Clara, what the hell...” he sighs as the penny drops. “Bonnie, this isn’t funny.”

“Bonnie isn’t here, Doctor,” she pouts in a condescending manner. “Bonnie was the first to die, lest she get any pathetic ideas about taking my place.”

“You... you  _killed_  her?”

“Don’t be absurd,” Clara snaps, and he feels his stomach lurch as he realises she’s telling the truth. “I don’t get my hands dirty. You being the exception to that rule. I had one of my people do it.”

“Since when did you... since when did you have “people”? And since when were you... evil?”

“Oh, please,” she rolls her eyes. “You truly think Missy would have picked you a good, warm-hearted, loving friend?” 

“Yes,” he replies dully. “You  _are_  all those things.”

“No,” she snarls, visibly furious at the insinuation. “I pretended to be, and I bided my time. God knows, it was sickening to watch you. God knows, it was vile to have to simper and swoon and hug you and try to make you think I cared. Well, not any more. The time has come for me to take my rightful place at my husband’s side, and for you to stop being a problem.”

“Your... husband?” the Doctor asks, focusing on that one word and feeling a mounting sense of horror. “What husband?”

“Well, my darling husband-to-be,” Clara holds out her hand, and a blood-red jewel set in a silver band glimmers back at him. “You bled all over the damn stone, but I’ve had it cleaned up. At least I know now that you bleed the same colour as all the filthy little humanoids you love so much.”

“Clara, who are you...”

Her face contorts in fury, and he thinks for one awful moment that she might hit him again. “You will not use that name. You will address me as Mistress.”

“I think Missy might object-”

“Missy’s dead.”

“What?”

“Oh, please. Like we could have her flying around and causing problems for us. No. We took care of it.”

“Who the hell is ‘we?’” he snaps, no longer caring about keeping his temper. “You and what army?”

“The Master,” she says in a condescending tone. “My husband-to-be. Goodness, you can be slow.”

“Cl... Mistress,” he says, although the words stick in his throat. “You can’t do that. You can’t marry him. Please. His last wife...”

“Poor unfortunate thing. She went quite mad, didn’t she?”

“He did awful things to her, Clara. Beat her. Messed with her mind. Hurt her in more ways than I can tell you. He’ll do that to you, Cl- Mistress. He’ll hurt you, and he’ll throw you away.”

“He’ll make me queen of the universe,” she told him icily. “And besides, I know how to manipulate you pathetic little Time Lords, remember? Now, be a good boy until the guards take you down to Level Seven.”

“What the hell is Level Seven?”

“Your worst nightmare, Doctor. And your new home, until the end of your days.”


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amy Pond, queen of evil. Or the bedroom, at least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
>  
> 
> _Could you do an evil Amy drabble please? Your Clara one was great!_

“Oh, Rory Williams,” Amy says with an over-dramatic pout, smirking down at her husband, who is currently spread-eagled on their bed and gaping at her in wide-eyed consternation. “You foolish, foolish man. You trusted me, didn’t you?”

“Amy... I...” he stammers, blinking rapidly as though his eyes may be deceiving him. “Amy... what’s...”

“You made a mistake, didn’t you?” she purrs. “You made the awful, awful mistake of thinking that I was someone who was on your side. You thought I was here to take care of you, and wrap you in cotton wool.”

“That’s...” he gives up spluttering, closes his eyes, and takes a shuddering breath, which seems to calm his frayed nerves. “Yeah. I did. It was in the wedding vows, remember? You promised.”

“A vow is easily broken. A lie is easily told.”

“You mean...”

“Oh, I meant it when I said ‘for better, for worse.’ Only, surprise, hubby dearest.  _I’m_  worse.” 

* * *

 

She cuddles up to him afterwards, massages body lotion into his wrists and ankles and covers his face in kisses. “How was that?” she asks gently, pulling him into her arms so that his face is buried in the hollow of her neck. “What you wanted?”

“Yes,” he murmurs, exhaling contentedly, and she giggles at the tickling sensation of his breath against her skin. “Very much so. But...”

She tenses up, terrified she’s hurt him, or that she’s taken this too far. “But?”

“But... the vows...”

“Oh, Rory Williams,” she smiles down at him soppily. “I meant every word of those vows. I didn’t lie to you. You know that.”  
  
“I do,” he mumbles shyly. “I very much do, I-”

Their bedroom door slams open, and they look up in horror to find River framed in the doorway, garbed in something that would give any parents a heart attack. Mostly though, in that instant, they’re concerned about their own nudity, so they clutch for the duvet as River looks from them to the bedposts and back again.

“Well now, mummy and daddy. Now I know where I get that from.”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” Rory shudders, visibly horrified at the thought. “Was there a point to you bursting in without knocking, or are you just making up for lost time when you were a baby?”

“Oh, yes, reasons. The world needs saving. Again. So if you two are quite finished...”


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara is somewhat put out that the Doctor doesn't dance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From born2reborn's prompt:
> 
> _Twelve and Clara travel to the 1960s and watch The Monkees perform. The pair share a dance, while the group sing 'Sometime In The Morning.'_

“You know,” Clara said, as they loitered at the edge of the crowd, watching the youngsters go wild for The Monkees. “When you invited me here, I did  _not_  envision putting on these truly ludicrous shoes and this frankly impractical mini skirt and then just standing here with you.”

“I don’t dance,” he said at once, shaking his head emphatically at the very notion of it. “Nope. Not me. Not ever.”

“The old you did,” Clara groused slyly, knowing how it would rankle him, and she looked up at him, widening her eyes just  _so_ , determined to get her way via any means necessary. “We danced.”

“And this me doesn’t.”

“Boring.”

“Not boring, pragmatic. It’d scare people, if I danced with you.”

Clara was about to make a quip about him being Scottish and miserable, then realised the implications of the last two words of his utterance. “What do you mean ‘with me’?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at him, and he turned a brilliant shade of maroon.

“Just… urm… people might get the wrong idea.”

“In what way?” she asked innocently, knowing full well what he meant but enjoying watching him squirm. 

“They might think I was your boyfriend,” he managed after a moment, as the band struck up  _Sometime in the Morning._  “And urm-”

“Shut up and dance with me,” she told him sternly, taking him by the hand and dragging him into the middle of the crowd. She smiled at him encouragingly, ignoring how much he was blushing, and began to move, not letting go of his hand as she did so. After a short pause, the Doctor began to mirror her movements, and she smirked. “There,” she said with self-satisfaction, edging closer to him and resting her hands on his shoulders. “Not so bad, is it?”

“I’m not a dancer, as a general rule,” he told her with a serious expression, then winked, breaking into a grin. “But dancing with you… I could make an exception.”


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unexpected sacrifice gives Clara a second chance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From allnewtpir's prompt:
> 
> _We know about Clara's echoes. What if one of them was a resident of trap street, somehow knew the genuine Clara was gonna face the raven, and sacrificed herself?_

Clara can’t breathe. She’s keeping it together for the sake of Rigsy, but she can feel her lungs constricting and a growing sense of nausea that she knows, by now, to be the first stirrings of a panic attack. The tattoo on the back of her neck feels like a physical weight, coiling around her throat and choking at her air supply, and she knows she needs to step away from her investigations and regulate her thundering pulse before Rigsy catches on to her blind terror. She has to be brave. She has to be composed. But right now... right now, she can’t be either.

“Gotta pee,” she mumbles by way of an explanation and slinks away from the wide-eyed youth who is still largely mute with horror over the day’s events. She’s saved him, yes, but at what cost? Her own life? She’s caught up in this thought as she rounds a corner, head down, fists clenched, and it’s then that someone reaches out and seizes her by the wrist with strong fingers. She half-screams as they pull her into the shadows, and then they yank her round to face them and she realises she’s looking into her own, hazel eyes, and blinks a few times, in the desperate hope she might be hallucinating. The girl stood in front of her, dressed in a floor-length cloak, however, refuses to vanish, and offers a small, awkward wave by way of reassurance. An echo. An echo of a decision made long ago at Trenzalore, and Clara isn’t sure whether to laugh or cry, because of course one would be here. Of course one would be here to watch her creator’s last stand. 

“Hello,” the girl says in a breathless voice, and dear  _god_ , this is not helping with the panic attack situation. “I’m Wynn.”

“You’re me.”

“Yes,” the girl says patiently, as though talking to a small child. “I’m also Wynn. Which means it’s your lucky day.”

“What the hell...”

“That thing on your neck,” Wynn says in a pragmatic voice, raising her chin and narrowing her eyes. “Give it to me.” 

“What the fuck?” Clara snaps, horrified by the very thought of doing such a thing. She took the chronolock to save another; she’s not about to condemn anyone else. “No! Why the hell would I do that? I’m under Mayor Me’s personal protection; you’re not. I’m not condemning you to death.”

“Clara, Mayor Me... she’s not what you think. Please. She’s difficult, and there’s no guarantee that she’ll save you. You are much more important than I am, sp give me the chronolock.”

“No!” 

“I know who the Doctor is, and I know who you are. Believe me when I say that you matter far more than I do. Please. Give me the chronolock.”

“You matter!”

Wynn laughs, and it’s a harsh, short sound. “No, I don’t. My family are dead. My friends are dead. I escaped from my homeworld, but my ship fell through time, and I got stuck here. I haven’t even been born yet. There’s nothing for me on Earth. Not now.”

“We can help you,” Clara pleads, unwilling to selfishly sacrifice one of her echoes. “We can take you to the right time, the right place.”

“No,” Wynn argues, and Clara is startled by the girl’s determination. “You will let me do this.”

“No!” Clara protests, and before she can blink Wynn’s hand has come up to wrap around her throat, pushing her back against the wall and choking her. “Wh-”

“Give me the chronolock,” Wynn says calmly, as though they were discussing the weather. “Now.”

“N-”

Her hand squeezes Clara’s throat a little tighter, and stars begin to pop in Clara’s field of vision.

“This will be the last thing I can do for the universe. Give it to me. I want it.”

Clara’s vision begins to go dark, and she knows she doesn’t have long before she loses consciousness. Her eyes lock with Wynn’s, and she nods, at last, understanding the girl’s resolve. “Have it,” she manages to say, exhaling the last of her oxygen as she does so, and Wynn smiles with tears in her eyes as she steps back, releasing Clara and watching the dark ink of the chronolock dissolve through the air, coming to rest upon her own neck.

“Thank you,” Wynn says, smiling sadly, and it’s the last thing Clara remembers before she crumples to the floor and passes out.

* * *

 

When Clara comes to, she can hear screaming. One long, drawn-out sound that breaks her heart and brings tears to her eyes and somehow seems familiar.  _Oh_ , she thinks to herself.  _Wynn_. _That must be... god, she must have been so brave._

She gets to her feet uncertainly, her head spinning, and heads back to the main street, realising as she goes that she’s now garbed in what was formerly Wynn’s long dress and cloak, and she draws it around herself in search of comfort. When she reaches the golden glow of the lurkworms, she looks down at the damp cobbles and seeing her own prone form, sprawled out and lifeless, and her heart lurches uncomfortably. For one awful moment, she thinks she might be sick, but then she looks up and there he is, framed in a doorway: the Doctor, staring at her like he’s seen a ghost.

“Clara?” he says, and his voice is so broken that it brings tears to her eyes. “But you...” he looks down at Wynn, then back up at her. “Two of you?”

“Two of us,” she confirms, and her voice sounds hoarse after Wynn’s assault. She clears her throat, swallowing hard in an attempt to sound more normal.

“But which...” 

“I am, but-” she tells him, with an exhausted, emotional smile, and he runs across the cobbles and sweeps her into his arms before she can say another word. 

“My Clara,” he breathes, pressing his lips to her forehead, then pulling back and staring at her in horror. “Oh god, my Clara. What have you done?”

“I don’t...”

“Yes, Clara,” Ashildr says from behind them, a cruel smirk on her face. “What  _have_  you done?” 


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara bumps into someone familiar in 1930s New York...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Amy and Clara meet, set after Angels Take Manhattan and Hell Bent, so reference can be made to both 11 and 12._

Clara squints at the woman walking ahead of her, trying to place where she’d seen her before. She was familiar, that much she knew, but _why?_ Taller than her, not that that was a surprise, with flaming auburn hair and perfect alabaster skin. And the _legs._ Dear god, the legs. Even under the long skirt, Clara can tell they go on for days, weeks, months-

That’s when it hits her. Why she recognises her.

Amy Pond. This is Amy Pond. The Doctor’s preposterously good looking companion prior to her.

There’s a brief stab of jealousy, and then that is supplanted by the irrational need to talk to the strange-but-not-strange woman, so Clara darts forward and taps her on the shoulder before she can talk herself out of it.

“Hi!” she enthuses, somewhat nervously. “You’re Amy Pond.”

“Urm,” the woman says, visibly disconcerted. “Yes, I am. You are?”

“Clara Oswald,” Clara hesitates for half a beat, unsure how to phrase it. “Your... successor.”

“My...” the penny drops, and Amy’s face lights up. “Oh my god! Where is he?! Is he loitering somewhere?”

“No, he’s...” Clara takes a deep breath, willing herself not to cry. “Stuff happened, and... well, I’m flying solo for a bit.”

“Did you steal the TARDIS?” Amy asks in awe, but Clara shakes her head.

“No... I’ve...” she blushes inexplicably, still unused to the words. “Got my own set of wheels. Things got complicated. Mind wipes, and the like.”

“Is he alright?” Amy asks, eyes narrowing warningly. “Is he OK?”

Clara wants to be annoyed, but she understands Amy’s concern. “He’s fine. Moving on. He’s got a new one. Bill.”

“Is he nice? I assume you’ve checked.”

“ _She’s_ lovely. Bumped into her a few systems and several light years over.” 

“Ah,” Amy smiles, evidently unsure how to proceed. “Would you like to... oh, I don’t know, grab a milkshake? Damn, I miss Starbucks.”

“Me too,” Clara chuckles, missing the sheer, human familiarity of it. “Milkshakes sound good, though.” 

Amy smiles then starts walking, and Clara falls into step beside her automatically. “Is he... still all bow-ties and chin?”

“Nope, he’s ah...” Clara grins. “You’ll be pleased. He’s Scottish. Grumpy. But sweet underneath it all.”

“Scottish?” Amy arches an eyebrow. “Well, that _is_ a turn up...”

Clara laughs. “Isn’t it?” she asks. “Now, I have so many questions for you. Mainly about all his bad habits.” 


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara finds something interesting in the TARDIS wardrobe...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From allnewtpir's prompt:
> 
> _Another prompt. Clara is going through the TARDIS wardrobe and puts on the Sixth Doctor's outfit. Twelve see it and proceeds to die a million deaths. This leads to him showing Clara all the outfits from 1-9._

“Doctor?” Clara calls, and he looks up as she parades into the console room garbed in a horribly, horribly familiar lurid coat. “What’s this?” 

He feels something inside him die, just a little. “That’s… urm… well, I thought you were the expert on me.” 

“On you?” she asks, and he curses mentally for giving the game away. “Oh my god, is this one of the previous you’s outfits?” 

He turns a violent shade of maroon. “I. Urm. Maybe. Possibly. Might have been. Urm. Where did you find it?” 

“Wardrobe. Which you?” 

“Sixth face. He was… loud, in every sense. Clothing, personality, the lot.” 

“Would you show me the others?” Clara asks curiously. “I mean. The outfits of all the others.”

“Ach, come on. You don’t wanna see that…”

“Oh, I do. I really do.”


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eleven isn't entirely sure why Clara is crying, but he knows he needs to do something about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From myhamsterjustsneezed's prompt:
> 
> _Please can I request a weepy Clara and caring Eleven?_

The Doctor isn’t entirely sure how Clara has gone from bouncy and lively to sobbing and hysterical in the time it’s taken him to circle the console, but somehow it’s a thing she’s done. He stares at her in consternation, unsure of how to proceed with the situation at hand. Clara is never like this. Clara is his overenthusiastic, joyful equal, mind working at a mile a minute and thinking on her feet. 

“Clara?” he asks, brow furrowing as he surveys her with concern. Crying isn’t good. Crying definitely isn’t good, and he needs to deal with that “What’s wrong?”  

“I…” she can’t get any further into her sentence, instead breaking down in sobs, and he feels his hearts break in unison. “I…” 

“Hey,” he says, with a pragmatism he doesn’t wholly feel, determined to comfort her. “It’s ok. Breathe.” 

She shoots him a dark look.  

“Right,” he acquiesces, grimacing at his inaptitude. “Sorry. Bad advice. What can I do? Help me out. Offer some guidance.” 

She holds her arms out to him. She wants a hug. Hugging is good. Hugging is familiar ground. He steps forwards and wraps her in an embrace, feeling her nuzzle into his chest and continue to cry. 

“My Clara,” he murmurs soothingly, one hand coming up to stroke her hair. “There, now.” 

“Sorry,” she mumbles, clinging to the edge of his waistcoat and taking a deep breath. “Can we just… go and sit in the garden? If we can find it?”  

“Sure,” he says at once, kissing her forehead. “And maybe you could advise me on… well, what’s going on.”


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor bumps into a familiar face in a bar. One he's tried hard to forget.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Twelve meets the War Doctor in a bar and they share stories._

“You,” Twelve says with loathing, leaning against the bar and surveying the grizzled old man beside him. “Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be off committing genocide and murdering innocents?”

“And who might you be, grandad?” the older man shoots back, and Twelve scoffs at the term, insulted by the insinuation.  

“Bit rich, coming from you. Although, I suppose I am much older than you are. And wiser. Benefit of having lived experience.” 

“You… you’re…” 

“Hello,” Twelve waves sardonically, beaming with as many teeth as he can manage to show. He hopes it scares the old grump. “I’m you. Pleased to meet you.”  

“What number?” 

“None of your business,” Twelve tells him prudishly, not wanting to be drawn into a protracted explanation. “Seriously. Genocide. Shouldn’t you be off committing it?”  

“It’s my day off,” his earlier self - the War self, the one he has tried so hard to forget - fires back. “Shouldn’t you be saving the universe?” 

“It’s my day off,” Twelve mimics, smirking at the other him’s scowl. “And I don’t save the universe any more. I teach.” 

“You teach?” The War Doctor can barely hide his disdain for the notion. “What in Rassilon’s name are you doing that for?” 

Twelve shrugs, trying to look casual about the matter. “I was inspired to.” 

“By?” 

“A friend. Clara.” 

“Oh, always with the bloody women…” the War Doctor mutters, rolling his eyes. “Was she pretty? We do tend to go for the pretty ones, I’ve noticed. It’s terribly dull, all that kissing and such. Did you kiss her? I hope I haven’t got any more of that to come. Unless she’s really something.” 

“You have no right to talk about her,” Twelve snaps, his mouth contorting in a snarl. “None at all, do you understand me?” 

“…sorry,” his war-torn past self mumbles, visibly chastised. “Sorry. Drink?”

“Whiskey. Neat.”

His former self nods, and Twelve resigns himself to an evening of painful conversations that he can only hope he won’t be allowed to keep.


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Clara, I'm not your boyfriend... but I wish I was."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From allnewtpir's prompt:
> 
> _Set during "Deep Breath", Twelve says "I'm not your boyfriend... but I wish I was." He says the regeneration have him the courage to admit he's been in love with her since he met her in the monk outfit. Clara admits her own feelings, but admits she needs time to adjust to everything._

“Clara, I’m not your boyfriend,” he says, in that low, gruff Scottish voice she hasn’t got used to yet. Not that she’s had the chance to. He’s barely spoken to her, and then there was the fleeing, and then... well. It’s too much to take in, and she’s barely processed the new voice when the meaning of his words hit her and she feels her heart break. She’d hoped, of course. She’d hoped for so long that things might be the same between them, or different in a good way. But then he’d left her behind, gone who knows where for how long, and now... well. She was a fool. She was a fool who’d lied to herself in desperation, and this was where it had got her. Alone, and rejected, and broken-hearted. She looks up at him with tear-filled eyes, and his own expression adjusts accordingly. He looks almost... panicked. Then it’s gone, replaced with a serene look of composure that even she can tell is forced. “But I wish I was.” 

Her heart is still too broken to soar, but her breath catches in her throat and she closes her eyes for a moment against the sight of him, stood with his hands in his pockets looking bold as brass as he stands where  _her_ Doctor stood, and he both is and isn’t that man. Schrödinger’s Doctor.  

“Right,” she manages before her throat closes up, and she just nods. “Mm.”  

“I...” he runs a hand through his freshly grey hair. Brand new, but silver already. “I wasn’t going to say anything,” he admits, looking down at the floor, and she realises he’s nervous. “I’m head over heels in love with you. Have been for years. Have been since you answered the door to me. Old me. Old me was... scared, I think. But I think this me is going to be brave.”

“Right,” she says again, and the shock of the words is too intangible for her to deal with. She’d dreamed of hearing them, yes, but not from  _this_ man. Not from  _this_ face. “OK.” 

“If you don’t... if you don’t want to be with me like that, that’s fine,” his face falls as he speaks though, and she feels guilty for making him think she doesn’t want him. Because she does, oh she  _does_ , it’s just... it’s a lot to process, in a day, and somewhere between the regeneration and the abandonment and the fear and now this confession, she bursts into tears. “Clara...” he says nervously, hovering on the periphery of her personal space, uncertain of how to respond, and somehow that makes it worse. “I...” 

“God, don’t you know?” she says in a rush, her words hot and hitching between sobs. “I mean... Jesus, that’s a stupid question. Of course you don’t. Stupid me. Stupid Clara.” 

“What...”

“I’ve been head over heels with you since then too,” she tells him, swiping her cuff over her eyes. “Just... this is a lot. OK? This is a lot to deal with, and I’m not entirely sure how.”

“Well...” he smiles, then, and she feels herself relax a fraction at the familiarity of his smile. “We could take things slowly.”  
  
“I like that idea,” she says, returning the smile apprehensively. “A lot.”


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Clara jumps into his timestream, Eleven has to deal with the consequences...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From allnewtpir's prompt:
> 
> _Set after "Name of the Doctor". Eleven pulls Clara out of his timestream, and as she recuperates, Eleven ponders the meaning of what she did. Having been in love with her since the monk outfit, he wonders if what she did had more meaning than just saving him. When Clara awakens, she says she has feelings, but doesn't know if it's love per se. 11 accepts that for now._

Clara is warm and heavy in his arms, but that’s not a complaint. If anything, it’s quite the opposite: a reassurance, an affirmation that she’s still alive. She’s as limp as a rag doll, sure, but he can feel the soft huffs of her breath ghosting over the fabric of his shirt as he carries her out of his own personal hell, past River’s world-weary data ghost, and back to the TARDIS. His muscles scream and his arms complain that they weren’t cut out for carrying nannies across battle-torn planets, but then he reaches the medbay and sets her down on a bed, and his own discomfort is forgotten at once as she becomes his priority. 

It’s been a while since he’s needed to do this, to medically treat a companion, but he remembers the motions of it. Check her vitals. Connect her to an IV drip to try and energise her, apologising as the needle breaks her skin. Wrap her up warm, tucking the blanket around her with the utmost tenderness. He’s done that part before, back in her house so many months ago, and he remembers how she’d smiled shyly at the biscuits and flowers he’d left at her bedside, so he fetches those and arranges them on the table next to her bunk. The bright, lurid pink of the flowers is a stark contrast to the cool, clinical white of the medbay and the pallor of Clara’s skin, but he tries not to think about how ill she looks; how she limped towards him; how she fell into his arms, overwhelmed. Instead he cups her cheek in his palm, smiling sadly as he skims his thumb over the arc of her cheekbone. 

“My Clara,” he hums, leaning down and pressing a kiss to her forehead. “You’re safe. You saved me, and I saved you.”

What she did... there is no doubt she has saved him, in every possible sense of the words. She acted without concern for herself, diving into the timestream with the intent on saving him from a million deaths at the hands of the Great Intelligence. She had been willing to give up everything she had to save him, and he can’t help but feel his hearts clench a little at the implications of her actions. What they could  _mean_. Because although he can scarcely admit it to himself, he loves her. When she steps into the TARDIS and smiles at him, it’s like nothing else matters: not Gallifrey, not his past bereavements, not anything outside those doors. The universe narrows down to Clara Oswald: making her smile; making her happy; holding her in his arms. And maybe flirting, not that he’d ever admit to that, but it’s something that he does sometimes, and he wonders if she notices.

He sighs, sinking into a chair that the TARDIS has helpfully materialised next to Clara, and he takes her hand in his, intertwining their fingers. “Be OK,” he half-prays, half-asks. “Please.” 

* * *

 

He doesn’t remember falling asleep, but he realises he must’ve, because someone is squeezing his hand and saying his name weakly.

“Doctor?”  

He remembers where he is and whose hand is in his and snaps to attention at once, opening his eyes and smiling at her with tearful relief. “Hello,” he tells Clara, who looks exhausted but somewhat more human. “How are you feeling?” 

“Tired,” she mumbles, looking down at where their hands are still linked. “That’s...”

“Sorry,” he says at once, and goes to let go, but she shakes her head. “Is that... OK?” 

“Of course it’s OK,” she assures him, closing her eyes and curling up on the bed, whimpering as she does so. “Ow. Everything hurts, Doctor.” 

“The Time Winds can do that,” he tells her, getting to his feet and fumbling for the sonic with his free hand, scanning her apprehensively. “You’re on the mend, though. Thank Rassilon. You gave me quite the scare.” 

“Don’t be daft,” she looks up at him and arches an eyebrow in defiance, but he can see the fear in her eyes. “Big scary Time Lord worried about one tiny human?”  

“Very worried,” he admits, and the teasing look on her face dies in an instant. “Terrified, in fact. I can’t... I can’t lose you.” 

“You’re not going to.” 

“I almost did,” his voice cracks, and he looks away in embarrassment. “And it...” 

“Doctor, what aren’t you telling me?” 

“How do you...” 

“I  _always_ know.” 

“Clara,” he sighs, knowing he needs to be honest. “Clara, I just... I can’t lose you because I care about you very deeply. In a way that is more than friendly. And I suppose I hoped that because of what you did... that maybe...” 

“I do,” she interjects. “Oh, I do, I just...” she yawns, and he understands at once. “This might be a conversation to have another time.” 

He can’t think of a coherent response, because his hearts are racing out of control, and she’s smiling at him exhaustedly. 

“Can you...” she looks a touch embarrassed as she scoots carefully over in the medical bed, patting the space beside her. “Could you just lie here with me for a bit?” 

“Yeah,” he manages, after a moment, clambering up and arranging himself beside her, feeling her cuddle into him and lay her head on his chest. “Comfortable?” 

“Mm. Safe.”


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Twelve accidentally gives Eleven a spoiler about Clara.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From allnewtpir's prompt:
> 
> _During "Day of...", 12 gets the cue to help his other selves. In the process, he and 11 have a brief conversation where he implies to 11 that he and Clara will wind up together. 11 is thrilled, but of course forgets afterwards. At the museum, instead of a peck on the cheek, Clara straight up snogs him._

“You’re doing The Look at her.” 

Eleven jumps, looking around and seeing his older, gruffer self leaning against his own TARDIS, watching him watching Clara talk to his - their? - younger self. No. Flirting with their younger self. Eleven feels a stirring of jealousy in the pit of his stomach and tries to ignore it, then tries to tears his eyes away from Clara, only to find he can’t. Which wouldn’t be an issue, but Twelve is smirking at him in a maddeningly knowing manner. 

“What look?” Eleven says at once, a tad defensively. “I’m not doing any look. I’m just looking at her. Looking at my friend. Nothing weird about that. Nope. Not at all. I’m allowed to look at Clara. She’s a very pretty woman, and she’d be offended if I wasn’t looking at her.”  

Twelve’s smirk only intensifies at Eleven’s incoherent ramblings. “Don’t let her hear you say that.” 

“I’m not doing any look,” he protests feebly, finally tearing his gaze away from his companion and looking at his older self with a scowl. “I’m just look _ing_.”  

“You’re looking at her like a lovesick puppy,” Twelve shrugs. “I’m the same. Only... well, you’re hoping she might notice, aren’t you?” 

“No,” Eleven says quickly.  _Too_ quickly. “I mean. No. Yes. Maybe. I might be. But she won’t, obviously, because she... I mean we... she’s not my... hang on, what do you mean ‘I’m the same’?”  

“Same look,” Twelve’s smirk changes then, softening into a fond smile. “Only she... well. Let’s say she noticed.” 

“You mean she...” 

“Spoilers,” Twelve says with irritating smugness, and before Eleven can say anything else, the Scottish version of him - oh, how proud his Amelia would be, if she could see him all angry and Glaswegian - steps back into his own TARDIS and dematerialises. The noise of the blue box vanishing is enough to draw Clara’s attention, and she leaves Ten’s side, approaching Eleven with a spring in her step.  

“Hello,” Eleven says weakly, still thrown by Twelve’s comment. “So-” 

He doesn’t get any further into his sentence, because Clara flings her arms around his neck and kisses him until his brain short-circuits to the point that he couldn’t tell you where he was, couldn’t tell you  _when_ he was, and couldn’t so much as tell you his own name. Any of them. Because Clara’s kissing him. Her lips are warm and soft and taste of strawberry and coffee and something he can’t quite identify, but that doesn’t particularly matter, because she’s  _kissing_ him. She pulls away a moment later, and he blinks at her in surprise.  

“What?” she says innocently, biting her lip as she blinks up at him through her eyelashes. 

“Why...” he begins, taking a deep, steadying breath, and he’s only dimly aware of his tenth self stood a few metres away, raising an eyebrow in silent congratulation. “Urm... why... what...” 

“You really think I don’t notice?” she asks, looking at him with teasing pity. “I couldn’t be sure, before now. But I saw you.” 

“Saw me what?” 

“Those big jealous eyes,” she puts her hand on his cheek, stroking her thumb over the skin there and smiling up at him lovingly. “I’m yours.”  

“You... are?” 

“If you want me to be.” 

“Yes,” he manages, stooping to kiss her forehead. “Very much so.”


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor has seen war before. But never on Earth, and never with a companion by his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Doctor Who universe stuck in civil war, or the Doctor Games drabble please?_

The TARDIS rocks with the force of yet another missile blast, and Clara grabs onto the console with practiced ease, grimacing at the Doctor uncertainly. “That was worse than before,” she cautions, and her voice betrays her fear. “ _Much_ worse.” 

“Pfft,” he scoffs, and she knows that he’s trying to appear braver than he feels, programming coordinates with one hand and patting down his jacket with the other. Clara knows what he’s looking for, but she rolls her eyes at his useless optimism, growing frustrated by his inertia. “What?” he asks, brow furrowing, and he actually looks offended by her impatience. “What’s that look for?” 

“You really think a screwdriver is going to be any good against the combined military might of UNIT?” she asks, arching an eyebrow in politely staggered disbelief. “I mean... it hasn’t been so far.” 

“This time is different.” 

“Why?” 

“Because this time I’m going to do something clever.” 

“You said that the last eight times,” Clara reminds him, and he scowls at her by way of response. “What? I’m just  _saying_.” 

“Well, this time I can do this. This stupid... war, or whatever the hell she wants to call it, needs to stop before someone gets hurt.” 

Clara sighs deeply, looking down at the console and poking at a piece of jagged metal with an experimental fingertip. “Remind me what you’re even fighting over?” she asks. “Because honestly, the reason has slipped my mind.” 

The Doctor mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like ‘I insulted Kate over her policy changes.’ 

“What?” Clara asks, looking up at him and narrowing her eyes dangerously. “Could you say that a little louder, to remind me?” 

“I insulted Kate’s new policy,” he snaps, looking like a sulky child. “And her shoes. Happy?” 

“Oh, very,” Clara smirks, heading towards the doors and shooting a triumphant look over her shoulder at the Doctor as she went. “Proving you wr-” 

There’s another massive explosion, and the TARDIS doors implode inwards, the console room depressurising as the chilly London air floods in. But the Doctor has very little time to notice that, because Clara has fallen to the floor, and while that is not in itself unusual for their exploits, the fact that she isn’t getting back up  _is_. 

“Clara?” he calls, racing to where she’s lying prone on the ground, and it’s then that he notices the blood seeping from a gaping hole in her side, and the pallor of her skin. “Clara, what...” 

“It’s nothing,” she says faintly, her hands finding the wound and pressing down on it ineffectually. “Doctor, it’s fine, I’m...” 

“Shh,” he tells her, whipping out the sonic and scanning her, then closing his eyes against the facts the device offers him. “Clara... you’re... it’s...” 

“I know.” Her bloodstained hand finds his, and squeezes once weakly. “You will not insult my memory,” she tells him, and her voice is firm as she gives him the directive. “There will be no revenge.”  

“But...”

“I'm not asking you for a promise, I'm giving you an order.” 

“Clara...”

But she’s already gone, and he clings to her hand as he falls apart, cursing humans and their aptitude for war as he does so.


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "'Welcome to the world, this is Clara Oswald, and she’s the light of your life and general salvation.’ That’s all the information I’ve got.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From allnewtpir's prompt:
> 
> _It's been established that Clara knew of her feelings during "Time of...". Somewhere during it she tells 11, and he of course reciprocates. 11 regenerates and 12 instinctually snogs her, saying ILY before "KIDNEYS."_

They’re sat on a roof in the town that’s somewhat improbably called Christmas, curled up together under a blanket, when she says the words. She’s not entirely sure how they end up slipping out of her mouth, but somewhere between the snow, and the warm glow of the fire, and the weight of the Doctor’s newly lined face on her conscience, she ends up saying in a rush: “I don’t want you to die.” 

He looks at her in that way he has. That way that she knows perfectly well to mean  _oh Clara, you poor little human, you don’t understand the gravitas a Time Lord places on duty_. It annoys her at the best of times, but today - on what, by rights, is Christmas Day, as far as she’s concerned - she has no patience for his survivor’s guilt or his customs or his patronising kindness. She punches him weakly in the chest, opening her mouth to chastise him, and somehow just like that she’s crying.  

“No,” she protests, before he can talk over her and fuss and flap and detract attention away from his own idiotic sense of loyalty to this planet; this planet he barely knows, and not her, the companion who died a million deaths to save him. How dare he? How dare he do that to her? “You are not allowed to die. I didn’t give up everything to have you bloody  _die_ on me.” 

“But-” 

“I’m still talking,” she snaps. “I’m still talking and I need you to know that yes, I am being selfish, and yes, I need you, and it’s because I love you and the thought of having to exist without you is genuinely just... I refuse. I won’t do it.”  

“You...” 

“Love you, yes.” 

“Platonically?” 

Goddammit it, the bastard actually has the audacity to sound  _hopeful_. “No,” she says pointedly. “Not platonically, you moron. But, I know, you’ve got your wife, anyway, and now you’ve got your planet and so you’re going to die heroically and alone for people you don’t even fucking know, and that’s  _fine_.” 

She gets to her feet and stumbles inside before he can follow her, hating him in that instant.

* * *

 

He’s on fire, or that’s what it looks like. She saved him, but now he’s burning, and there’s nothing she can do. A moment ago he was talking to someone who wasn’t her, and now her heart is breaking, and there’s nothing she can do to stop any of this because in her idiocy she’s facilitated it. 

“Please don’t change,” she pleads, but his head jerks back as himself and then forwards as... well, she’s not entirely sure. A new man, yes, but an... old man. Silver hair, lined skin, and furious eyes. An unknown quantity.  

“Clara?” the stranger asks - because he isn’t her Doctor, not really - and she realises he’s  _Scottish_. Of all the things to be, he had to be Scottish. “Clara?” he asks again, and she realises she’s just staring at him in dumbfounded, mute shock.  

She manages to nod, and the stranger steps forward and wraps his arms around her waist, holding her close to him and pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I love you.” 

“I...” she stammers, too taken aback by the action to comprehend what he’s saying. “What?” 

“I love you. S’the only thing I know. ‘Welcome to the world, this is Clara Oswald, and she’s the light of your life and general salvation.’ That’s all the information I’ve got.” 

“Has something...” she’s  _blushing_ , dear god. “Has something gone wrong?”

He tilts her head up so he can look at her, a fond smile on his face and the anger dying from his eyes. “No,” he says softly, and kisses her quickly. “No, this time, something has gone very right.”


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor decides to embrace an aspect of student life he hasn't yet tried: drinking. Bill is unimpressed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _The Doctor and Nardole have one too many drinks, how does the robot get drunk? Who knows? They end up acting like idiots only for Bill to find them half cut, with the Doc playing guitar and Nardole wanting to play Uno with the "precious vault monster" Bill's reaction is up to you, as is the aftermath and probable hangover of the Doctor and Nardole._

“Bill!” 

The Doctor’s voice is slightly too exuberant to be sober, and she steps into his office with a sense of bemused trepidation about what she’s likely to find. He’s stood on his desk - boots and all - with his guitar slung across his hip, and he’s playing assorted chords with a great deal of enthusiasm, but very little in the way of prowess. Ah. Definitely drunk then. 

“Bill!” 

Nardole is equally pleased to see her, which in itself is weird. He bustles over to her holding up a stack of brightly coloured cards she only dimly recognises, shoving them in her face and giggling. 

“I’m gonna go see if our little friend in the vault can play Uno.” 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” the Doctor half-says, half-sings. Bill surveys him with a look of chastisement which he ignores. “She might bite your hand off. She’s tried to take off mine before. It was a heat of passion thing.” 

“Hang on, you’re telling me that you’ve got your... girlfriend... in that vault?” Bill affixes the Doctor with a mildly horrified look. “What kind of messed-up shit is that?” 

“She’s not my  _girlfriend_ ,” he rolls his eyes heavily at the insinuation. “She’s my arch nemesis. My  _sexy_ arch nemesis.”

“Right.” Bill collars Nardole before he can escape the study, confiscating his cards and then jabbing him towards the TARDIS. “You’re a butler. Go and... buttle. Go on.” 

“Ha,  _buttle_ ,” the Doctor giggles. Actually, bona fide giggles. “S’a funny word.”  

“You,” she says sternly. “Down. Now. What are you thinking? Standing on a desk? It’s not appropriate.”  

He hesitates for a minute, then hops down, looking contrite. “Sorry Miss.” 

“That’s better,” she acquiesces, relishing in her newfound power. “TARDIS, now.” 

* * *

 

Bill is rudely awakened some time later by someone jabbing her repeatedly in the shoulder. Looking around, she notices a pale looking Doctor, who is stood somewhat unsteadily behind her and looks on the verge of tears.

“Bill?” he stage-whispers. “Bill, I don’t feel well.” 

“It’s called a hangover, Doctor. Get used to it.”


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor and Clara have a furious conversation about toasters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Whouffaldi; things you said through your teeth._

“For god sake,” the Doctor hisses, and this might be the angriest she’s ever seen him. At her, at least. “Why did you touch that?”

“I didn’t know what it did!” she says defensively, folding her arms over her chest. “I thought it was just a button you pressed for dramatic effect, I didn’t think it  _did_ anything.”  

“Well it does.  _Did_.” 

“No shit,” she scowls at him. “How was I supposed to know it regulated the toaster settings?”  

“Yes, how were you? With your tiny little human brain, how could you possibly grasp that a 2000-year-old Time Lord might prefer his toast a little on the underdone side? Really, I shouldn’t even be...” 

He stops talking then, because Clara has dissolved into fits of giggles. 

“What?” he snaps. “This is very serious, stop laughing.”  

“We’re arguing about toasters.”

“Like I said, Clara. This is  _serious_.”

“You prat. I’ll take you to Argos when we get back, and I’ll buy you a new four-slice toaster. If you ask nicely, I might even get you one of those clear ones, so you can see when your toast is perfect.” 

He opens and shuts his mouth a few times, then glares a final time to make a point. “Fine,” he says sullenly. “Just... don’t press any more buttons.”


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post-North Pole, Clara suffers conflicting feelings about running off in a blue box.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt: 
> 
> _Whouffaldi; things you said when you were crying & things you said when I was crying._

“I can’t do this,” Clara manages between sobs. He’s not entirely sure why she’s crying - one minute they’d been spinning around the console like old times, and the next... well. This. Admittedly they’d nearly died, but that was nothing new. “I can’t... this is a mistake...” 

“Hey,” he says gently, because he doesn’t know what else to do. He takes a hesitant step towards her, then another, then another, until he’s stood by her side, and he thinks about hugging her, because that might be something she’d like. “It’s alright.” 

“Doctor, we nearly... we nearly died...” she stammers, and he throws caution to the wind and reaches for her, drawing her into his arms protectively. “And we...” 

“Clara,” he murmurs, holding her against his chest and letting her sob. It might be the fact she’s in her nightie, or it might be the time that has elapsed, but she feels smaller than he remembers. More vulnerable. “It’s alright. You’re safe. We both are. I’ve got you.”

“But we... we shouldn’t be...”

“Why?” he asks in a low voice. “Why shouldn’t we have this? The two of us, in the TARDIS? What’s so wrong about that?” 

“Danny...”

“Would want you to have a life,” he ghosts a hand over her hair, feeling her relax fractionally at the reassuring physical contact. “Would want you to be happy.” 

“Just...” she takes a deep breath, and her hands settle on his lapels. “Promise me you won’t leave again.”

“Clara Oswald,” he smiles down at her. “I will never leave you, ever again.”


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Escape pods are rather cramped. Clara discovers this somewhat belatedly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Eleven/Clara; things you said with no space between us._

“Ow,” Clara says in a perfunctory manner, her head pressed uncomfortably into the Doctor’s chest, somewhere between one of his braces and his bowtie. They’re in a pod which is frankly more her size than his, and definitely not designed for two people. Although given that it’s this or burn to death on the space station behind them, this is certainly preferable. “Remind me why this escape capsule is so tiny?” 

“Because it wasn’t built for humans,” the Doctor says, his voice coming from somewhere above her, and she suppresses a giggle at how strained his voice is. He’s not used to being this close to her. Not outside the bedroom, at least. “Sorry about that.”

“Well isn’t this intimate?” Clara half-grumbles, half-enthuses, squirming about a little so that she can look up at him. She grins, then, and he returns her smile tenfold. “Bit coffin-like, but let’s try not to think about that.” 

“Yes, let’s not. This is... cosy. I can feel you jabbing me in all sorts of-” he breaks off and gives her an odd look. “Why is your face all red?” 

“It’s hot in here.” 

“No, it isn’t,” he argues. “It’s optimum for preserving vitals, actually, and-” 

Clara wriggles some more, aims to kiss him, and misses only fractionally, her lips landing against the edge of his. She swears under her breath, edges her head to the left, and tries again, their mouths meeting, and somehow in that instant the cramped environment doesn’t matter.  

“Well,” the Doctor says, when she finally runs out of air and has to pull away, panting. “Is that how we’re going to spend the next four hours until we meet the TARDIS?”

“Yes,” Clara decides smugly. “Yes, it is.”


	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor sends Ashildr a message.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Twelve and Ashildr; things you said with too many miles between us._

_Dear Ashildr,_

_I haven’t found her yet. I’m still searching, and I swear I won’t give up. I know what you did to her, and why I can’t find her. I know how you betrayed her, and tried to sell her out to the Time Lords. She trusted you, and you led her into a trap, and I swear to you, if they’d caught her... I would have killed you. That goddamn chip aside, I would have found a way, and I would have made sure it hurt. She deserved better than you and your viperous, backstabbing ways, so I’d suggest you avoid me for another few hundred years. If I find you, I’m not entirely sure what I’d do, and I’d hate to kill you in a fit of rage and regret not having made you suffer. She is safe out there now. She is safe, and you will not harm her again. You will not trick her again. Or so help me, I will bring the universe down on you. That is not an idle threat. You’ve seen what I’d do for Clara._

_The Doctor_


	35. Chapter 35

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara prepares to face the raven and accept her death. At least the Doctor is by her side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Whouffaldi; things you said with no space between us._

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, his arms wrapped around Clara’s waist as they stand in the extraction chamber together, enjoying each other’s company for a final, bittersweet time. “I’m sorry it came back to this.” 

“Don’t be,” she says bravely, raising her head to meet his gaze. Her expression is a mask of composure, but he can see the fear in her eyes and it breaks his hearts. “I knew this was part of the deal in the end. You’re here, that’s something.” 

“It was the least I could do.” 

“The least you were  _meant_ to do was forget me,” she sniffs, trying to smile. “Then again, you were never one for following orders, were you?” 

“Boring,” he teases, although all he wants to do is break down and weep. “Not me.”

She buries her head in his chest, and he knows she’s listening for the double beat of his hearts to pretend that one of them is her own. He wonders how long it’s been since her heart last beat, and how long it will beat for when they put her back on Trap Street. Will she have time to appreciate it? Will she have time to revel in being alive in the brief instant before her life is snuffed out once more? 

There’s a sniffle then, and he realises that she’s crying. His beautiful, brave girl is crying, and there’s nothing he can do about it. He dips his head to press his lips to her forehead, closing his eyes and breathing in the unfamiliar smell of this her, and then there’s a small shift and her lips are against his, tasting of tears and stardust and something that might be artificial strawberry, but the kiss is too brief to tell. He opens his eyes and looks down at her, tears clouding his gaze, and he wants nothing more than to kiss her again, but he knows he can’t. 

“Right,” she says brightly, and he knows she’s drawn courage from the kiss, but her braveness is killing him. She steps back and swipes her hand over her eyes, clenching her fists at her sides. “Let’s do this.”  

“Clara...” he begs, his voice breaking. “Clara, please...”

“I’m ready,” she says to the technicians, approaching the crack in the wall and taking a deep, unnecessary breath. “I can do-” 

The Doctor doesn’t think, he just acts. He pulls the sonic out, flicks to setting 2311, and sparks emanate from the extraction chamber console, sending the surrounding team into a panic. 

He seizes Clara’s hand before she can protest, dragging her away from the wall, out of the room, and towards the TARDIS.

“Doctor...” 

“No,” he says firmly. “Don’t even think about complaining. The universe can go to hell.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	36. Chapter 36

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonnie is furious at the Doctor, and frankly she has a good reason to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Twelve & Bonnie; things you said that I wasn’t meant to hear & things you said after it was over._

“I heard you,” Bonnie says sadly into the phone. The phrase was supposed to sound angry and accusatory, but somewhere between the bottle of wine, the chocolate, and the post-break up Spotify playlist, things have got a bit mangled between her brain and her larynx. “I heard what you said to her.” 

“Bon,” the Doctor’s voice is weary with the weight of her name. It always was, which retrospectively was where the problem lay. “I don’t know what you mean.” 

“Telling  _Bill_ ,” she spits the girl’s name like a curse. “About  _her_.” 

“She asked about Clara.” 

“She didn’t ask you to tell her that you loved her,” Bonnie spits, her anger abruptly reappearing, and she hates him in that instant. “She didn’t ask for a fucking  _soliloquy_ about how great Clara was.” 

“Monologue,” the Doctor corrects automatically, and she swears at him. “Don’t use that kind of-” 

“You’re a real piece of shit, you know that?” Bonnie snarls. “Using me as some second-rate stand in. Getting me to use her face and her voice as some perverted form of grief counselling, and then... well, doing what every goddamn male in the universe thinks is his divine right.” 

“Is this why you dumped me?” the Doctor asks, sounding genuinely stupefied. “Because of Clara?”

“Yes, it’s because of your precious little Clara,” Bonnie tells him. “Go and find her, Doctor. And leave me the  _fuck_ alone.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	37. Chapter 37

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The darkness is oppressive. It's a good thing Ashildr has someone to cuddle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the-moon-loves-the-sea's prompt:
> 
> _Clara/Ashildr; cuddling in the dark._

 

There’s a quiet tapping on the door of Clara’s hotel room, and panic uncoils in her gut. Ashildr hadn’t wanted to stay here, she’d wanted to stay in the TARDIS, but Clara had insisted on the luxury hotel, and now- 

There’s another, louder spate of knocking. “It’s me,” a familiar voice hisses, and Clara frowns, getting to her feet and unlocking the door to take in the sight of Ashildr, garbed in a long white nightie and looking, for want of a better word, scared. 

“Hey,” Clara says as brightly as she can manage at three am. Not that the time matters, because she hasn’t needed sleep for years, but something about her brain residually objects to the idea of being sociable in the small hours. “What’s up?” 

“Can’t sleep,” Ashildr mumbles, to Clara’s surprise. She’d expected monsters, or danger, or plots. Definitely not this. “Can I sleep in with you?”

“That won’t look weird at all.” 

“ _Please_ ,” Ashildr begs, her eyes wide and pleading. “I can’t... I don’t like being alone in strange places. Not in the dark.” 

Clara dithers for a moment then nods, stepping aside to allow Ashildr entry to her bedroom. The younger girl hovers beside the bed uncertainly, allowing Clara to clamber back in first, which she does, then arranges herself carefully on one side and holds out an arm. Ashildr scrambles in, all wild hair and sharp elbows, and Clara’s half-afraid she might lose an eye, but then the Viking girl settles, facing away from Clara and scooting back until they are, approximately, spooning. It’s an odd feeling. Clara can’t remember the last time she did this with anyone, let alone an immortal.  

“Comfy?” she asks, rearranging herself around her companion a little more comfortably, tucking the two of them together more securely. 

“Mm,” Ashildr hums, relaxing in Clara’s arms. “Very.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	38. Chapter 38

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They've saved the day, which warrants celebrating, and celebrating always means cuddling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From [Alex's](http://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSaddleman/pseuds/TheSaddleman) prompt:
> 
> _Whouffaldi; totally romantic cuddling & cuddling in lieu of kissing._

They’ve saved the day, for the nth time, and they tumble into the TARDIS in unison, the Doctor looking down at Clara expectantly. She catches the look, of course, because it’s her and she knows him, and she mirrors the expression back at him tenfold, before standing up on tiptoes and flinging her arms around his neck. 

“Hello,” she murmurs lovingly into his ear - or what she hopes is his ear, with her height, nothing is certain - as she tightens her embrace and giggles. “Space husband.”

“That is a ludicrous thing to call me,” he objects at once, but he surprises her by picking her up completely. Her legs wrap around his waist and she buries her face in the soft, velvety expanse of his shoulder as he walks with her in his arms towards the reading chair, sinking down and pressing a kiss to her forehead as they get comfortable together. “But, hello space wife. Superhero space wife.” 

“Mm, I like that,” she tells him, shifting so that she can tuck her head under his chin and listen to his hearts beating. “But I like the other thing you call me much better.” 

“My Clara,” he hums at once, kissing her forehead again. “Mine.”

“My Doctor.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	39. Chapter 39

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Early morning cuddles are the best cuddles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Whouffaldi; just waking up cuddles._

Clara blinks sleepily against the artificial morning sunlight filtering through the artificial window in her TARDIS bedroom, wriggling contentedly under the duvet and edging closer to the sleeping Time Lord beside her.

“Morning.”

OK, the not-sleeping Time Lord. She can work with that. She can use that to her advantage. She scoots herself closer to him, resting her head on his chest and tracing patterns on the thin cotton of his t-shirt. “Morning,” she hums, letting the double-beats of his hearts lull her back into a state of sleepiness. “Coffee would be good, you know.”

“Coffee _would_ be good,” he acquiesces, shifting slightly and wrapping his arms around her more comfortably. “But not right now. Cuddling now. Coffee later.”

“I think I can live with that,” she mumbles, nuzzling into him. “That sounds like a plan.”  
  
She yawns widely.

“Or maybe back to sleep?” the Doctor muses, but she’s already out like a light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	40. Chapter 40

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara and Twelve are caught _in flagrante delicto._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From allnewtpir's prompt:
> 
> _Bill and Nardole walk in on 12/Clara. Bill and Clara are nonplussed, Nardole blushes, and 12 feels like regenerating right there._

“That’s good,” Clara moans, arching her back and trying, ineffectively, to catch her breath. “More...”

The Doctor locks eyes with her and smirks in that knowing way of his that  _dammit_ , really shouldn’t be that sexy, and-

The door to their bedroom slams open and Bill and Nardole burst in, their exuberant grins dying in unison.

The Doctor shrieks and rolls off Clara at once, pulling the sheet with him, and she sits up, entirely unabashed by the situation at hand, grinning as Nardole turns a fiery shade of red. She turns her attention to Bill, locking eyes with the girl and raising an eyebrow teasingly. “Don’t you knock?” she asks without any real accusation. “You know. Kinda busy here.”

“I...” Nardole stammers, talking over Bill, who’s smirking like a cat that got the cream. “Can you please put some clothes on?”

“Does my nudity bother you?” she asks, and he turns a darker shade of red. 

“Yes!”

The Doctor mumbles something from his position face down in the sheets. Clara jabs him in the shoulder, and he looks up long enough to say: “Please put some clothes on.”

“No,” she argues, turning her attention back to Bill. “I repeat; don’t you knock?”

“Don’t you lock doors?” Bill counters. “Or like... you know, put a sock on the door handle, or whatever?”

“Boring,” Clara sits up a little, sticking her chest out  _slightly_ more than is strictly necessary. “I wouldn’t get to tease you then.”

“That is a good point,” Bill acquiesces, smirking. “Well. Anyway. We’ll be back in the console room, if you two wanna carry on. If he’s up to it.”

“He isn’t,” Clara deadpans. “Embarrassment and erections don’t combine well.”

“I hate you,” the Doctor mutters from the bed beside her, and she and Bill snicker. 

“You wouldn’t have that issue with a lady,” Bill notes, and tips Clara a wink. “You know where my room is, if you get bored.”

“Indeed I do...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	41. Chapter 41

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The kiss is awkward and unplanned, but still romantic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _The Doctor and Clara's first kiss._

The first time it happens, it’s almost accidental. Or at least, it isn’t planned. (Although if questioned, Clara would admit under extreme duress that yes, OK, maybe she had been thinking about it for a while, and sending hopeful thoughts to the TARDIS in a suggestive “hey you could enable this” sort of a way. The time machine, for all its quirks, would never admit to having done such a thing. It was the pinnacle of Gallifreyan engineering, not a snog box. Although she was not adverse to the snogging. No sir.) 

They crash through the doors of the TARDIS, and she’s whooping with triumph, and the Doctor’s arms are around her waist as he sweeps her off her feet, and she’s thinking about kissing him so intently that she’s dimly aware he might have noticed, but she doesn’t have much time to ruminate on the creepy  _oh shit, he might be reading my mind_  line of thought, because he’s kissing her. Breathlessly and sloppily and OK, it’s not earth-shattering, but it’s heartfelt, and she’s still got butterflies, because she’s that kind of clichéd woman.  

He pulls away after half a beat, and his eyes immediately go wide with panic. “Shit,” he mumbles, which is unlike him enough to be of mild concern. “I shouldn’t’ve... I’m sorry...”

“Don’t be,” she tells him brusquely, yanking him down for a second, more rehearsed kiss - the kind she has definitely  _not_ spent hours thinking about. 

“But...”

“Enough with the talking; please concentrate on snogging me. Thanks.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	42. Chapter 42

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What do you get if you lock two geniuses in a broom cupboard?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Osgood and Twelve locked in a room at the uni during an alien invasion and try to find a way out, it's also dark and so they can't really see. Twelve tries to guess her outfit based off of him and she tries to figure out what's in the vault. I guess they have fun despite the weirdness._

“Do  _remind me_ ,” the Doctor says bitterly from somewhere to her left. “Why I let you talk me into entering a broom cupboard?” 

“Excuse me,” Osgood protests at once, scowling in his general direction. “I didn’t talk you into anything. You grabbed me, babbling away about the density of dust particles, and dragged me in here to demonstrate a point. It is  _not my fault_ one of your students deemed it funny to lock us in.” 

“I suppose it’s also not your fault aliens are attacking?” 

“You would be correct,” Osgood says drily. “Can’t you do something clever?” 

“I could try,” he says conversationally, and she can all but see the maddening smirk on his face. “Or you could.” 

“Why me?” she says, frowning into the gloom. “You’ve got a sonic screwdriver.” 

“You’re dressed up as me, I’m sure some of the cleverness has been transmitted to you by osmosis. Or something.”  

“Am not dressed like you,” Osgood mutters defensively, sticking her hands in her pockets. “...much.”

“You’re wearing a leather jacket,” he points out smugly. “And a scarf that’s a good three times your own height.”

“Shut up,” she mutters. “ _You_ do something clever. You’re the superior physiological being, or so you keep telling us.” 

“Fine,” he acquiesces, and she can sense that he’s sticking his tongue out at her just from the tone of his voice. There’s a low whirring noise, and the room lights up with a flickering blue glow. “I’ll try.” 

“Why are you even here?” Osgood asks, as he busies himself with the door. “I mean, not the cupboard. At university.” 

“Doing a thing.” 

“Guarding something. Yes, we know that.” 

“Well if you know that, why did you feel the need to ask?” he shoots her a look, which she ignores. 

“Who is it?” 

“Like I’m gonna tell you.” 

“Missy?” Osgood guesses, her throat tightening at the name. “Please not her.” 

“No comment.” 

“The Master?”

“No comment.” 

“River?” 

“Yes, I’ve locked my wife in a vault,” he deadpans, then rolls his eyes. “No comment.” 

“A whole bevy of Claras?” 

“Nice idea, but no comment.” 

“Yourself?” 

“Osgood, I’m not going to tell you,” the door clicks and swings open, and he grins at her in triumph. “Success.”

He takes in the furious looking alien framed in the doorway.

“Ah.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	43. Chapter 43

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daleks may all look the same, but the Doctor knows there's something different about this one...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From allnewtpir's prompt: 
> 
> _What if 12 knew Clara was in the Dalek casing, figuring it out from the moment he saw Missy? Bonus if he's so enraged he actually knocks her out._

“Doctor!” the Dalek barks, approaching him and appearing entirely affected by the foul, rancid liquid contaminating its peers. He’s not overly concerned about that, except for the fact that this Dalek isn’t suffering as much as it deserves to, but he shrugs, throwing caution to the wind and trying to engage the damn thing in conversation. Well. Interrogation. Same difference. 

“This city is about to be sucked into the ground. Your own sewer is about to consume you. There’s no way you can win, there is nothing you can do, so just tell me, where is Clara Oswald?”

“I am a Dalek.” 

He rolls his eyes, irked by its avoidance of the question. “Yes, you’re a Dalek. Where is Clara?” 

“I am a Dalek.” 

“Yes, I _know_ that you’re a Dalek. Where is Clara Oswald?” 

“I am a Dalek! I am a Dalek!” 

“Doctor, stop!” Missy appears from nowhere, brandishing a gun and looking worryingly gleeful. That can’t be good. Anything Missy has to be cheerful about is undoubtedly going to cause him an untold amount of stress. Oddly – and somewhat insultingly – Missy doesn’t seem that interested in him for once, and she points her gun at the Dalek instead, looking accusatory as she does so. “It’s you, isn’t it? I mean, no offence, you all look alike, but it _is_ you?”

“Affirmative.” 

Missy looks at him with an oddly composed expression. “Clara’s dead, Doctor. This is the one that killed her.” 

The Doctor’s hearts stop in that instant, and he looks from Missy to the Dalek and then back again. Clara can’t be dead. He knows, somehow, that if she was dead, he would feel it. 

“Do not listen to her,” the Dalek says at once. “I am a Dalek, I am a Dalek.” 

“I got her out of the city, but…” Missy looks genuinely remorseful, which is… not normal. Missy doesn’t do remorse. Missy has _never_ done remorse. “This one caught us and shot her down. There was nothing I could do, I’m afraid.” 

“I am a Dalek!” 

The Dalek sounds… well, if the Doctor didn’t know better, _panicked._ It sounds desperate. Admittedly, its entire city is about to be swamped by its species’ own liquefied dead, but this is… well, this is something else entirely. This is a Dalek which is… scared. Scared, and alone, and not murderous.

“She ran,” Missy continues, and glee is creeping back into her tone. “She screamed. I’m so glad you didn’t have to see that.” 

In that instant, the Doctor understands what’s happening. He looks the Dalek directly in the eye, and offers it a hopeful smile. “Clara?” he asks, his voice strained. “Clara, is that you?” 

“Affirmative,” the Dalek says immediately, and he might be imagining it, but does it sound… relieved? “Affirmative, Doctor, affirmative.” 

His hearts soar, and then anger begins to course through him, white-hot and all-consuming. He turns to Missy, his fury crystallising down to one word. “Run,” he tells her, through gritted teeth. “Missy, run.”

She raises an eyebrow and begins to walk away, but he’s not paying any attention to her, because Clara is the priority now. “Clara,” he says gently. “Clara, open the casing. Think the command, and I can get you out.” 

There’s a second’s delay and then the metal parts to reveal Clara, sobbing and shaking and whimpering his name. He steps forward as she staggers out of the Dalek, catching her in his arms and feeling his hearts ache at the sight of the godforsaken wires piercing her temples and connecting her to the metal monster. 

“You’re going to be OK,” he murmurs softly, activating the sonic sunglasses. “I promise. I’ve got you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	44. Chapter 44

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gravitational disturbances are not fun. Particularly when your own personal saviour can't see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Nardole and Bill find themselves in an odd situation, one’s on the ceiling the other is walking on walls and the Doctor, well he can't see but figures with some helpful wording from Nardole he figures out the problem and the solution. Maybe a reference to Men in Black with the Doctor's shades._

“Urm, Doctor,” Bill begins uncertainly, from her newly-acquired position on the ceiling of the corridor, peering at the Doctor from above. “Why am I upside down?”

“Are you?” he asks, with vaguely apathetic disinterest. “Morally, spiritually, emotionally, mentally, or physically?”

“Physically.”

“Well, I’m sure Nardole can help,” the Doctor shrugs, adjusting his shades and turning his head reflexively. “Nardole?”

“Things have gone somewhat sideways,” Nardole says from somewhere to Bill’s left. His feet are clinging to the wall, and he looks only slightly concerned by this new, horizontal development. “And Doctor, I mean that literally. Stop looking bored and do something to help.”

“I’m not bored, I’m blind,” the Doctor snaps, and Bill senses rather than sees his eye roll. “Get yourselves down.”

“How?!” Bill asks, beginning to feel panicked. “You’re the Time Lord, do something clever!”

“Well, how can I do that when I can’t see?”

“I don’t know,” she says crossly. “Try using the sonic shades?”

“That’s an idea,” Nardole concurs. “I think it’s a gravitational disturbance. Bill’s on the ceiling cos she’s tiniest-”

“And you weigh more.”

“Sizeist,” Bill accuses, half-teasingly. 

“No, he does,” the Doctor informs her. “The metal inside him is denser than your molecular structure.”

“Not as dense as the Gallifreyan though,” Nardole jokes, earning himself an - admittedly off-target - scowl from the Doctor, who pinches the arm of his sunglasses and sends both of them crashing to the floor in retribution. “Ow,” Nardole adds in a tokenistic manner. “Thanks, sir.” 

“Thanks,” Bill mumbles, getting to her feet and taking the Doctor by the hand. “Let’s go save the world.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	45. Chapter 45

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill meets a chap with a bowtie on the streets of Bristol.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt: 
> 
> _Bill meets Eleven by chance, before he meets Clara again, and doesn't know who he is._

Bill’s not entirely sure what just happened. One minute she’d been minding her own business and walking to a lecture, and the next she was sprawled on the pavement, her books strewn across the floor in front of her as she sat on her arse and ruminated on the rudeness of passersby. 

“Oh my god, I am _so sorry,”_ a nearby bloke says at once, scurrying back over to her and helping to her feet with an apologetic grimace. “I didn’t see you, I can’t apologise enough for my own clumsiness. I really must work on that, it’s scaring people off. I’m certain of it.”

Bill looks him up and down and does her best not to affix him with a judgemental stare. He’s wearing tweet and a bowtie and actual, bona fide braces - although, if she’s being honest, this is Bristol, and she’s seen weirder in the hipster cafes that litter the city streets. 

“S’alright,” she says non-committally, as the bloke bounces up and down retrieving her books, smoothing down the dust jackets and reading the titles aloud as he does so. “Thanks.”

“This is a good one,” he tells her enthusiastically, handing back her copy of _A Brief History of Time,_ shortly followed by her other books in a neat stack. “But don’t take everything it says at face value. _Do_ be critical. Now, are you alright? Did I harm you in any way? That pavement looks rather unforgiving, and if you need a lift to a medical professional then that is something I can absolutely do.”

“Nah, I’m alright thanks,” Bill tells him, offering him a tight smile by way of reassurance. “Cheers for the offer though. Gotta get to class.”

“Well, enjoy yourself!” he all but shouts, grinning like a lunatic and spinning on the spot before dashing off down the road like a hyperactive child. “Learn well!”

 _Weirdo,_ Bill thinks to herself, but without malice. _Actual weirdo._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	46. Chapter 46

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill is seduced by a mysterious English teacher with a thing about desks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From allnewtpir's prompt:
> 
> _Bill and Clara meet, flirting (and possible shagging) ensues. 12 walks in, mutters to himself, then makes them breakfast. Because 12._
> 
> Somewhat NSFW, you have been warned.

Bill knows she’s supposed to be saving the world, or studying, or something of that productive ilk. Really, she does, and really, in any other situation, she absolutely would be doing that. But it’s kind of hard to concentrate on that, because a devastatingly attractive - albeit tiny; not that she’s complaining - brunette has just stepped into her path out of nowhere, and is now smirking at her with the kind of look that makes Bill’s heart lurch, and other parts of her... well,  _do things._  

“Bill Potts?” the improbably attractive stranger asks, and really, Bill knows she should be asking questions, but nah. 

“Yeah?”

“Fancy a drink?” 

“I’m actually supposed to be...” she tries to protest, then thinks  _fuck it._ “Yeah, actually. It’s not every day I get propositioned by attractive, magically appearing brunettes.” 

“Who said I was propositioning you?” the brunette arches an eyebrow as Bill approaches her, and dear  _god_ , she’s attractive when she does that. Well. Generally attractive, but like that... 

“Your eyes are giving the game away,” Bill says in a low, self-satisfied voice, because she’s not the only one who can play this game. “Your eyes would indicate you want to take me to bed.”  

“Taking you to bed sounds nice, if conventional,” the woman’s grin turns a touch dangerous. “I was thinking somewhere more... fun.”  

“Oh?”  

“I’m a teacher,” the woman says, biting her lip. “And in my experience, desks... well, desks have their advantages.” 

Bill swallows. She has an idea, but she knows she shouldn’t. She  _really_ knows she shouldn’t, but fuck it, and also fuck this woman, and fuck, she’s  _trying_ to fuck this woman. “I know a place.”

* * *

 

The Doctor finishes his lecture and approaches his office with a spring in his step, buoyed by the potential of some of his students. Only some, of course, because others... well, it’s best not to go there. 

He opens his office door and steps over the threshold, only to find himself taking in the frankly unwelcome sight of Bill on his desk, doing... well, he’d like to not think about that, because she’s his substitute granddaughter, and dear god, he did not ever need to see or hear or think about this. Ever. 

Then the person she’s doing Things to looks up at him, and his mouth falls open. 

Clara Oswald. 

Clara Oswald is screwing - being screwed? semantically, it’s a grey area - Bill Potts on his desk.  

He’s not sure how to feel about this, other than uncomfortable at the thought of Bill naked and awkwardly aroused at the thought of Clara similarly disrobed, so he mutters: “I’ll be back in five minutes,” and bows back out to the corridor.

“Well,” he says to himself, taking a deep breath. “I think tea might be in order. Tea, and cleaning products.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	47. Chapter 47

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As first times go, it's not earth-shattering or TARDIS-shattering, but it's still everything Clara's ever wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _The Doctor and Clara's first time._
> 
> Very much NSFW.

Alright, so it isn’t the spectacular event she’d envisioned it to be. She’s not entirely sure why she’d let herself build things up to that kind of impossibly, unattainable standard, because she knows well enough that first times with new partners are always awkward, fond fumbles: experiments in discovering what the other person likes; what they sound like; how they come apart.  

She’s already learned the first two. The Doctor likes her. He doesn’t seem to be fussy about what she does or how she touches him or what she does with her lips - he just likes her. That’s a blessed relief, and saves her the awkwardness of having to take up yoga or tantric sex or anything equally bizarre. He just likes her, and he expresses that with a variety of sounds that honestly, she would never have expected to hear coming from the gangly, awkward Time Lord. Half-moans, exhaled on a sigh, and her name breathed into her ear when she does something that’s particularly pleasing. Unfamiliar noises, yes, but not unwelcome. He’d sounded so raw when he said her name the first time that she’d had to check he wasn’t crying, but his eyes were closed and his cheeks were dry and she claimed his lips with hers and felt the brush of his mind against her consciousness.  

When she lets him in, she almost falls apart. Stars, and swirls, and her name, over and over, etched deep into his mind and spilling into hers as she places her hands on his chest, over his hearts, and still in her movements for a moment, catching her breath and looking down at him. “Are you alright?” he asks at once, his brow furrowing with worry, and she smiles, leaning down and kissing him. “Clara?”  

“Never been better,” she murmurs, kissing along his jaw and sucking lightly at the pale expanse of skin at his neck, marking him as hers for as long as their tryst lasts and his skin remains unhealed. “I love you.” 

“I love you,” he breathes, and then he flips her onto her back and laves his tongue along the collar of her throat, causing her back to arch and her breath to hitch. “More than the universe itself.”  

She moans his title after what feels like an eon of holding back, her ego finally capitulating as she gives in to her emotions completely - no longer thinking, no longer reasoning, only feeling and breathing and  _enjoying_ ; enjoying the feel of him inside her and his fingers skimming her breasts and the look in his eyes as he moves against her. Pride and lust and love and fear. Everything she knows he can see in her own expression, and she moans his title again. 

“No,” he murmurs, and he leans down, whispering his true name in her ear, and she doesn’t understand it, but she comes unstuck nonetheless, moaning the words back to him as she does, and it’s enough to tip him over the edge too.  

She lies in his arms afterwards, content, fulfilled, and already aching pleasantly. “Thank you,” she whispers, pressing her lips to his sternum. “For loving me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	48. Chapter 48

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara's always enjoyed having this power over him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Clara being kinky in her leather jacket with Eleven being submissive after losing a bet._
> 
> Very much NSFW.

“I’m sorry,” he pants, his arms tugging uselessly against the restraints attaching his wrists to the headboard. He’s already been doing that for almost half an hour, and her favourite cuffs have stayed true to form and not loosened a jot. “I’m sorry, Clara.” 

“Now,” she tuts in a chiding tone, straddling him and enjoying the way his eyes roam appreciatively down her body. She’d suspected he’d like this lingerie set, and pairing it with the leather jacket and high heels had proved almost fatal to the gangly, long-limbed idiot pinned underneath her. She grabs his face in her hand, smirking, adding just enough of her nails to the touch that he flinches. “That isn’t my name, is it?”  

“S-sorry,” he stammers, looking so deliciously apologetic that she wishes she had a camera to capture the moment. “Mistress,” he says reverentially. “I’m sorry, mistress.” 

“That’s better,” she smiles sweetly down at him, rewarding him by grinding against his lap enough to tease. “Good boy.”  

He whimpers, and the sound is exquisite. Something about seeing him like this - bound, panting, and desperate - does things to her, and she licks her lips, savouring the sight. He’s a complete wreck, and she’s never seen anything more beautiful. Knowing he’s at her mercy and that she can do anything in the world to him in that instant... it’s electrifying. It’s not even entirely to do with sexual gratification; it’s just addictive knowing she has that power over him. The power of life and death; freedom and captivity; sexual release or frustration. 

“Such a good boy,” she coos again, reaching up and running a thumb over his lower lip. “But so noisy. Would you like me to gag you?” 

His eyes glaze over, and he swallows noisily as he weighs up the correct answer to give. “Urm,” he begins, running his tongue over his teeth. “If it would please you.” 

“It would.” 

“Then please, mistress. Yes.”

She smirks and gets to her feet, going over to her bag of tricks and taking out what she needs. Ah, yes. He’s going to enjoy this. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	49. Chapter 49

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ashildr has an exciting idea, but her husband seems less keen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt: 
> 
> _Ashildr takes charge with some kinky whipping of her husband back in the days before meeting the Doctor again._

“You know,” Sam says idly from where he’s perched on the edge of the bed, unbuttoning his shirt and eyeing his wife with a degree of trepidation. “I’m not entirely sure about this idea.” 

“You said that last time,” Ashildr shot back impatiently, thwacking the handle of the whip she was holding into her palm. “And you ended up liking it in the end.”

“Yes, but you also got arrested for fornication, so you know, swings and roundabouts,” he shoots her a warning look, then one of apology. “Not tonight, OK? Maybe when we finally reach a century that doesn’t look on women who enjoy their own sexuality as being heretical.” 

“But that’s _ages_ away.”

“Well, patience is a virtue, dear.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	50. Chapter 50

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this is what love is. Kneeling in the dark, waiting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Dom Twelve but on Clara's orders because she's had a long week and doesn't want to think about anything else but release and her lover._
> 
> Very NSFW.

“Please,” Clara exhales, looking up at the Doctor with wide, desperate eyes, her neck aching from the uncomfortable position. “Please, just let me... please... I’ll do anything...”

“Anything?” he asks, running a finger along her spine and then settling his palm against the curve of her arse, and she tenses reflexively. “Anything at all?”

She whimpers slightly as he squeezes the sensitive flesh there, pressing down on the bruises already beginning to bloom under the skin. “Anything.”

His hand comes down without warning and she yelps at the unexpected sting of it. “‘Anything’ _what_?”

“Anything, sir,” she says at once, arching her back and tugging helplessly against the restraints that bind her wrists to the headboard. “Anything, sir, please, just let me... just please...”

His hand comes down on her arse again, and then is gone from her skin, and she senses him get off the bed and stand beside her, his hand caressing her hair as he instructs in a stern voice: “You may come.”

She hates herself for the fact that he need only say the words and her body responds at once, and she collapses forwards onto the pillows as she moans and tries to catch her breath, his name tumbling from her lips as she feels her muscles contract and shudder. The cuffs are digging uncomfortably into her wrists and she can’t quite breathe properly and-

The cuffs are unbuckled, the Doctor’s hands encircling her wrists gently as he pulls her onto his lap and strokes her hair and her face and her neck, pressing kisses to her damp skin as he does so. “Hey,” he says gently, the tone far removed from his earlier, authoritative manner. “It’s alright, my Clara. I’m here.”

“Thank you,” she gasps, as he shifts her on his lap and strokes the reddening skin of her arse experimentally, reaching to the bedside table for a pot of body lotion and beginning to apply it in gentle circles. “For... well...”

“It’s my pleasure,” he hums, using one hand to open a bottle of Lucozade and hold it up for her to drink. She loves him for that - for knowing that in that instant her muscles are jelly, and that she’s incapable of so much as sitting up unsupported. She takes small, eager sips of the orange liquid, relaxing into the Doctor’s chest and appraising the ache of her arse and thighs. “How you feeling?” he asks, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“Good,” she murmurs, feeling strong enough to take the bottle and sip it herself, and his hand strokes down to her thighs, leaving behind a thin layer of strawberry-scented body butter. It smells like pain, and it smells like happiness, and it smells like love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	51. Chapter 51

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She's always enjoyed taking charge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt: 
> 
> _Part 2 of Eleven and Clara kinkiness please?_
> 
> Very NSFW.

When she finishes buckling the gag into place, the last stirrings of resistance melt out of his limbs, and he blinks up at her in quiet, understanding trust. “You remember the signal?” she asks, and he nods once perfunctorily. “Good.”

She flips him onto his front with an ease that she knows would surprise many, then walks her fingers down his spine until she’s at his coccyx, allowing her digits to drum out a regular beat there as she let the anticipation build. She waits until he’s bucking upwards just  _slightly_ , then she steps away from him and goes back to her bag of tricks, extracting what she wants and coming to stand at the foot of the bed, weighing it up in her hand. It’s a paddle - not a large one, but large enough, and she looks down at the Doctor, his head bowed out of submission, and brings it down on his arse without further aplomb.

His skinny hips jerk upwards and he yells into the gag, and she looks down at his with disdain. “Hold  _still_ ,” she commands, then brings the paddle down again, and this time he manages it. “Good boy.” 

He whimpers something into the gag, and it’s muffled but she understands it.

_Thank you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	52. Chapter 52

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, just sometimes, Clara Oswald likes to give up control. This is one of those times.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _More Dom Twelve please!!_
> 
> NSFW.

He stands over Clara, his breath coming in short, shallow pants as he taps the crop against his leg impatiently, watching her squirm. It makes an odd, almost-clacking sound against the fabric of his trousers, quite different to the noise it makes against Clara’s bare skin, but even the sound of it through clothing is enough to make her tense up on the bed, her reddened arse tightening in anticipation of whatever he’s about to do. Which could be hitting her again, or it could be backing off and allowing her to stew in her own juices. She has no idea. 

He steps forward and chooses the latter, the candy-striped crop that he had made her pick out coming down on her arse with a satisfying  _crack_ , and she yelps in response, jerking away from his hand and moaning as the sting passes. Well. Almost passes, because he brings his hand down again and strikes her across the exact spot he’d just hit, and she cries out. 

“Fuck!”  

“What did you say?” he snaps, yanking her head up by the hair, and she whimpers then. “What was that foul word?” 

“I’m sorry,” she stammers at once. “I’m sorry, it just... I didn’t...” 

He  _tsks_ and lets go of her, and she collapses onto the cushions. “For that,” he decides. “Ten more strokes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	53. Chapter 53

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara's always enjoyed teasing him, so of course, why limit herself to indoors only?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Clara's kink is it to turn the Doctor on in public. In the most inconvenient situations._
> 
> NSFW.

It starts off innocuously enough, of course. It always does. She takes his hand in the market square, and he smiles down at their interlaced fingers, enjoying the physical contact. She squeezes lightly, dancing just far enough ahead of him that he can’t see her eyes, and then she sends out a mental image, strong enough for him to pick up on.

_Her, writing underneath him. Her, sinking to her knees in front of him, smirking. Her-_

“Clara,” he says from somewhere behind her, in a slightly strangled tone. “Clara, stop it.” 

“Stop what?” she asks, turning back to look at him, and he already looks somewhat pained. She fights the urge to snicker. “I’m not doing anything.”

“You a-”

She leans up and kisses him then, long and sweet before slipping her tongue into his mouth and pressing herself flush against his body, feeling the effect she’s having on him and smirking into the kiss. She pulls away and her eyes flick from his face to his erection and back again, and her smirk widens. 

“Oops,” she says innocently, widening her eyes. “My bad.”

“I hate you,” he breathes, scowling, but she’s already leading him towards a quiet back street, ignoring his complaints.

“Shush,” she says bossily, pinning him against a wall and beginning to undo his trousers. “Or else I’ll stop.”

He thinks for a moment, and then falls silent.

“Good boy.”


	54. Chapter 54

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, companions need to be taught a lesson.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Clara disobeys Twelve on a adventure and he feels the need to punish her (obviously with her consent)_
> 
> NSFW.

“I told you not to do that,” he says in a low, warning voice as they step back into the TARDIS, and the triumphant laughter of a moment earlier dies in her throat. “And you disobeyed me.”

“I didn’t... come on,” she tries to grin, to downplay the situation, but he’s not going to allow himself to be swayed. “I was just trying to do the right thing.”

“Well, you were wrong,” he snaps, scowling at her disobedience. “Undress.”

“I don’t...” she giggles nervously, looking around the console room. “Here?”

“Yes, here. If you want to misbehave, you can damn well face the consequences. And in this case, that means my ship, and all its judgement.”

The TARDIS burbles at him in a way that he suspects is supposed to be chastising, but he ignores it. Clara hesitates for half an instant and then begins unbuttoning her blouse, slipping it off and hanging it on the balustrade, before stepping out of her skirt and doing the same. She unlaces her brogues with care, arranging them neatly underneath the console, then peels off her tights and looks to him uncertainly, unsure of whether to proceed.

“And your underwear,” he tells her coldly. “Now.”

She shivers at the burr in his voice, undoing her bra and removing it, then shimmying out of her French knickers, letting them drop to the floor. He watches her fight the urge to cover herself using her hands, and smirks. 

“Now,” he begins. “Should I punish you here, or in the bedroom?”

She shudders, dropping her gaze for half an instant before her eyes meet his and he sees the penitence there. “Wherever you’d like, Doctor.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	55. Chapter 55

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are perks to having sex with your duplicate. And downsides.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Clara and Bonnie. NSFW._
> 
> As the prompt indicates... NSFW.

_I've been looking forward to hearing you scream._

Bonnie’s earlier words echo in Clara’s ears as her duplicate smirks down at her, leaning down to double and triple check the knots she’d spent the last ten minutes laboriously tying, binding Clara securely to the headboard. The fact that the movement presses her breasts into Clara’s face is... probably deliberate, although Clara isn’t entirely sure. 

“Nice tits,” she manages in a bright tone, and Bonnie pulls back immediately, face contorting into a familiar, seductive smirk. “I mean. I’ve only seen them in mirrors and pictures before, but... wow.”

“Thank you,” Bonnie purrs, kissing her deeply, and Clara’s brain short circuits. She’s kissing herself. She’s thought about this, certainly - fantasised about it in idle moments - but she’d never envisioned actually _doing_ it. Bonnie pulls back and pouts, and Clara feels a tingle of anticipation. “Now, Clara. I _can_ hear you, you know.”

“Oh,” Clara swallows. She’d forgotten about that. “Well. Urm. You. You know what I want, then.”

“Oh, I do,” Bonnie looks almost pitying, and Clara realises she knows _everything._ “And I really _do_ look forward to hearing you scream.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	56. Chapter 56

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara would never admit it, but sometimes she _likes_ doing what she's told.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Clara reveals to 12 how turned on she gets when the Doctor gets all commanding during adventures and so he decides to have some fun with it._
> 
> Fairly NSFW.

“Do you enjoy this?” the Doctor asks from his position in the reading chair, and Clara blinks up at him in confusion. He realises he might have to make himself a little clearer, and he gestures with one hand as he expands: “That is to say... me taking control.”

“Urm,” she looks up at him and he senses the minute change in her breathing and heart rate. “I... might...”

He meets her gaze levelly. “That isn’t an answer,” he says softly. “Tell me.”

“Yes,” she confesses after a moment’s hesitation, her teeth worrying her lip in a way that he’d like to chide but is far too alluring to discourage. “Yes, I do.”

“Tell me,” he pauses, steepling his hands together and looking down at her. “Does it turn you on?”

Her pupils dilate then, and her mouth falls open. “I...” she stammers, thrown, and he knows full well the effect he’s having on her. “I... yes, it does.” 

He beckons her up to him, and she ascends the stairs without question or argument, wholly pliant to his will. She stands in front of him, hands clasped behind her back, eyes cast down to the floor, and he smirks. “Get on your knees,” he commands, and she meets his gaze shyly. “Now.”

She gasps, and sinks to the floor.

 _Oh,_ he thinks to himself with anticipation. _My Clara._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	57. Chapter 57

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara and Quill get to know each other better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Quill and Clara teach at the same school and have sex in an empty classroom bc Clara has a public sex kink and Quill is desperate for sex like. All The Time._
> 
> Somewhat NSFW.

“This is a bad idea,” Clara reasons in between kisses. Well.  _Tries_ to reason, because Quill is unbuttoning her shirt, and sucking on her neck, and dear god, that is _definitely_ going to mark, and-

“Shut it, Oswald,” Quill rips open her own blouse, and Clara blinks at the expanse of alabaster skin that the action exposes, her mouth falling open in awe. “Now. Are you going to get down on your knees, or am I going to have to make you?”

“I don’t know,” Clara asks in as coy a tone as she can manage, backing Quill against the wall and claiming her lips with her own. “Are you going to let me bend you over the desk afterwards?”

“I’ll consider it,” Quill pants, tugging Clara’s hips flush against her own and unzipping her skirt. “But first...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	58. Chapter 58

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor meets a waitress in a diner and tells her a love story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From allnewtpir's prompt:
> 
> _12's conversation with Clara in Hell Bent; instead of him leaving, he reveals the mind block didn't take, then leaps over the counter where snogging (and possible shagging) ensues. Bonus if Ashildr sees them and facepalms._

“She could be anyone, right?” Clara asks, trying to keep her tone bright and not dissolve into tears. She isn’t sure how many of her life lessons the Doctor remembers, and she’s not sure whether she’d prefer him to be indifferent to or overly concerned by her emotions. “You don't know who you're looking for. I mean, she could be me, for all you know.”

She glances at him then, fleetingly, but long enough to see his brow furrow, and then she looks away, busying herself with wiping down the counter with a cloth as she lets her words sink in. He doesn’t remember her, she knows it in her heart of hearts. He doesn’t have a clue who she is, or he wouldn’t have spun this whole elaborate little tale. Stupid, stupid her. This whole idea had been doomed from the start.

“There's one thing I know about her,” the Doctor says with a chuckle, and she hates him in that instant - hates him for his levity, when she’s spent months grieving. “Just one thing.”

“Oh?”

“Clara, look at me,” he murmurs, and the use of her name is enough to make her freeze in her task. “Clara, I know who you are. Please. Just look at me.” 

She turns on the spot, her eyes filling with tears, and she meets his gaze before losing her composure and dissolving into hysterical, irate sobs. “You _bastard,”_ she weeps, fuming at his deception and how it’s played with her emotions. “You absolute... you really had me thinking... you complete _arse_...”

“I’m sorry,” he ditches his guitar and circles the counter, pulling her into his arm and politely overlooking the way she smacks him in the chest and then clings to his lapels. She feels her anger ebb slightly as he embraces her, and she melts against him, still weeping from the shock. “I just... you were so strong, my Clara.”

“I cannot _believe_...”

“Clara, I love you,” he says, the words slipping out in a rush, and she looks up at him, blinking in consternation. “That’s the one thing I know, OK? I know that the universe can go to hell, because I love you, and I need you.” 

“You...”

“Yeah.”

“And you remember what I said-”

“-in the Cloisters? Of course.”

Clara kisses him then, not caring about the consequences, because he’s right. The universe can go to hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	59. Chapter 59

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rory makes a confession to Amy. One he might regret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _A slightly drunk Rory mentions to Amy his fantasy of her being naughty with him. She says he might get his wish. Which of course she happily does fulfil!_

“You know,” Rory says in a fond, loving tone which isn’t all that different from his general voice. He looks at Amy over the top of his beer glass, and grins soppily from ear to ear. “I’ve always had this fantasy about you.”

“Could you be more specific?” Amy asks pragmatically, downing the remains of her glass of wine. She’s nowhere near as drunk as he is, and certainly not drunk enough to put up with his vague, entirely unspecific gibberish. “Like, much more specific? Because I’m basically a fantasy come true, let’s be honest.”

“I know,” he hums contentedly, leaning in for a kiss which she deflects due to her highly transferrable lipstick. “It’s just this idea of you dressed as a nurse, tending to me. So attractive. Like. _So_ attractive.”

Amy looks at him with stupefaction, unsure whether to laugh or cry at how clichéd he is. “You are,” she tells him, after a moment of trying to work out how she feels about this information. “A gigantic, drunk idiot.”

“I know.”

“I love you, though.”

“I know.”

* * *

 

Of course, Amy Pond does not forget things like Rory Williams confessing his sexual fantasies to her, so the next time they find themselves with a free evening, she snogs him senseless in the lounge, tells him to meet her in the bedroom, and then disappears to get changed into the outfit she has exceedingly carefully purchased off the internet. When that’s done, she steps into her bedroom and watches Rory’s eyes widen as his brain short-circuits, and she smirks.

“Hello,” she says in an innocent, somewhat simpering voice that she’s heard Rory use with patients. “I believe someone in here needs assistance...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	60. Chapter 60

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One minute Clara's short, and the next she's shorter. Just her luck to body-swap with the only immortal in the universe who's shorter than her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Clara and Ashildr swap bodies by mistake when battling an alien? Shortly after Hell Bent so they're still learning about each other._

Clara isn’t entirely sure what happens. They’re fleeing down a corridor towards the escape pods, gas canister goes off in front of them, and then suddenly she’s... well, she’s not sure. Shorter, and somewhat further back than she recalls being, and she falls to the floor in an entirely uncoordinated manner, all arms and legs and hair and-

Hair.

That isn’t her hair. This is swishing around her shoulders and getting in her eyes and generally getting in the way.

She looks down at her hands in stupefied confusion, turning them over and taking in the bitten nails and dry skin, trying to work out what’s gone wrong, and then she looks up and _Jesus Christ, that’s her._ She’s looking at herself. _Damn,_ she thinks idly. _I look good._

“What the _fuck_?” she mutters sourly, before she can get too hung up on that thought, watching her own body scowl back at her. 

“I have no idea,” it - her? whatever - says back. “I think we might have swapped consciousnesses.” 

Ah. That explains it.

“Oh. You’re tiny, and difficult to...” she lingers, uncertain of the terminology. “Make go.”

“You make me sound like a machine.”

“Bodies basically are biologic machines.”

“Yeah, well yours is weird. How do you deal without a heartbeat? It sounds... wrong. My ears feel weird. Your ears. My ears. Whatever. You know what I mean.” 

Clara notices the achingly familiar sound then. A heartbeat, filling her ears and thundering in response to her shock. It’s the first she’s heard with her own - not-her own, either way - ears in a long time. She exhales happily, enjoying the way it feels to have a pulse again, and gets to her feet, dusting down her - Ashildr’s - jeans. “We were running,” she says pragmatically, and Ashildr gives her a look. “We should probably keep doing that.”

“So we should.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	61. Chapter 61

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill really should start knocking before she enters rooms. For everyone's sake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From allnewtpir's prompt:
> 
> _What if we find Bill and Nardole talking to a very flustered 12, flustered because Clara is under his desk getting a few licks of his other sonic?_
> 
> Suggestive, but not overly NSFW.

“Doctor!” Bill exclaims, stumbling into his office without knocking and doubling over in an attempt to catch her breath. She’d made the - admittedly poor - decision to run up the stairs, which given the hot weather had been a bad idea. When she remembers how to breathe and looks up at the Doctor, he looks somewhat... well, if she didn’t know better, she’d say _pained._ He’s maroon, and looking at her in wide-eyed horror, alternating between that and an expression of martyred endurance. “Why do you look like that?” 

“Like what?” he all but squeaks, swallowing then forcing a smile. 

“All red,” Bill narrows her eyes suspiciously, trying to work out the cause of his bizarre behaviour. “And like... embarrassed.”

“I’m not embarrassed,” he says, in a somewhat strangled tone. “I’m... surprised.”

“Oh, right,” Bill mumbles, feeling a flush of remorse. “Probably should’ve knocked.”

“No, it’s not you, it’s... well, you know how it is. I got a bit... caught up in something.”

There’s an odd noise from under the Doctor’s desk, and he yelps. “Ow!” he complains, and his gaze drops to his lap for long enough for Bill to understand. 

“Oh my god,” she says, her eyes widening in mortified disgust. “Oh, my god. You’re... oh my god. Straight people. You all need to chill the hell out. Jesus.”

She backs from the room, shuddering, and tries to block out the thought of the Doctor doing... _that._ At _uni,_  no less.

“Ew,” she says again. “So much ew.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	62. Chapter 62

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's their first anniversary, and Clara has a present for the Doctor...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Twelve/Clara; their first anniversary._

“Morning,” the Doctor hums in her ear gently, and she makes a small noise of contentment, shifting slightly in bed so that his breath ghosts over the exposed skin of her neck. It’s a pleasant feeling, and she murmurs his name sleepily, smiling at his hands come up to hook her hair behind her ear, and his lips press against her pulse point. “Happy anniversary.”

“Happy anniversary,” she tells him with a delicious sense of completeness. It sounds so natural; so _right._ “Husband.”

“Wife,” he says back at once, with an easy grin, and she sits up a little, noticing for the first time the tray that he’s set at the end of the bed. There’s a teapot big enough for one, a prettily patterned china teacup and saucer, and a plate of croissants accompanied by tiny jars of jam and butter, then set to one side is a single red rose in a slim vase. Her eyes linger on it, and his fingers capture the bloom, tucking it behind her ear and eliciting a giggle from her in response. “Beautiful.”

“You sap,” she teases, but flushes red nonetheless, pleased by the compliment. “Did you put that together all by yourself?”

“Might’ve,” he looks embarrassed by his own thoughtful gesture, and his modesty captures her attention and affection. She takes his hand and kisses the palm, smiling against the coolness of his skin as he asks: “Want your gift?”

“I get a gift?” she wonders aloud, still too giddy about the prospect of breakfast in bed for his words to register, and he rolls his eyes.

“Of course,” he says, his voice containing a soft undertone of _well, duh._ He extracts a small navy blue box from his pocket and holds it out to her. “Here.”

She takes the proffered item and opens it to reveal a shimmering black stone hung on a silver chain, and her heart stutters. “It’s beautiful,” she manages, twisting her hair up and holding the box out to him. “Put it on for me?”

He smiles, one side of his mouth twisting up in a manner she knows means he’s relieved that she likes the necklace, and his fingers lift up the delicate item of jewellery, fastening the clasp at the nape of her neck and then pressing his lips to the skin there. “There.”

“Would you like your gift?” she asks in a low, teasing voice, and he nods, trying not to look overly eager. She reaches into her bedside drawer and takes out a long, slim box, handing it to him and watching his brow furrow as he opens it and looks down at the contents. 

“I don’t...” he begins, looking from it to her and then back again. “What...”

“Two lines mean positive,” she tells him. “And that was the fifth one I took.”

“You mean...”

“You’d best be ready for the pitter-patter of little Doc Martens,” she tells him, and he whoops with glee, flinging his arms around her and starting to cry in awe-struck joy. “And a tiny little starry eyed baby.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	63. Chapter 63

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara reveals herself to the Doctor, in more ways than one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Twelve/Clara; one character watching the other character get naked._

He’s always liked watching Clara undress. Not just before they make love, which is something they’re doing more and more now under her guidance, but generally. Watching her remove layer after layer is hypnotic; it’s like watching her remove everything that makes her the Clara that the world sees, and instead changing into the fragile, loving woman that she reveals for him and him alone.

She’s disrobing now. They’re not going to have sex - he doesn’t _think_ , although with Clara he can never be sure - but she’s stripping off in preparation for bed, and he lays quietly on top of the covers, watching her. First, her blouse. A row of tiny buttons that he’d fumble with, he knows, and end up ripping in impatience, but her small fingers make light work of the fastenings, and then she shrugs the garment off her shoulders, tossing her hair to one side as the curves of her shoulders is revealed, then the rich, navy-blue lines of her bra, dark against her alabaster skin, and finally the soft expanse of her stomach. She arranges the blouse artfully over the back of her chair and then unzips her skirt, allowing it to puddle at her feet before stepping out of it, bending to pick it up and shaking it out fussily. A moment later, it joins her blouse and she is stood in the half-light of their bedroom in nothing more substantial than her mismatched underwear and ten-denier black tights.

She perches on the edge of the bed then, and begins to roll down her hosiery, her tongue poking out the corner of her mouth as she does so, and when she’s done she throws the tights into the washing basket in the corner of the room, getting up and unclasping her bra in one fluid movement. She slips it off with her back to him, but it doesn’t matter - he’s memorised the shape and feel and softness of her breasts, and besides, she turns towards the bed and seizes one of his t-shirts from under her pillow, offering him a glimpse of them as she pulls to garment over her head. To his surprise, she sinks down beside him then and nuzzles into his chest, her hair unbrushed and her face still made up, and he presses a concerned kiss to her hair. “OK?” he asks quietly, and she hums an assertion.

“Just wanted to be held,” she admits after a moment, and his hearts ache with love for her. “Just for a moment.”

“I know,” he assures her. “I won’t ever let go.”

They both know he isn’t talking about the hug.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	64. Chapter 64

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Do not cross tiny Blackpudlian English teachers. On pain of death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Twelve/Clara; one character calming the other down._

“Clara,” he says wearily, leaning against the console and keeping an eye on her as she stalks around the upper levels, the staccato of her heels on the metal flooring echoing around the room. “Clara, I know-”

“How _dare_ Adrian say that?”

“Clara...”

“You aren’t too old for me! That’s a load of shit!” she swears, smashing her fist into the back of the reading chair in a vengeful act that isn’t directed at the piece of furniture, or him, but he winces anyway. “It’s just... it’s just bollocks!”

“Yes, it is, so stop swearing and stop getting angry and just _ignore_ _him_.”

“I _do_ ignore him!”

“Well, you seem very angry for someone who’s ignoring him.”

“Fuck off,” she snaps, punching the armchair again and then wincing, her face contorting into an expression he recognises with lurching horror. “Sorry.”

“You punched a support, didn’t you?”

“Shut up,” she mutters angrily, perching on the top step and cradling her hand. Her fury fades away as quickly as it was provoked, and she whimpers as he scales the stairs to her and takes her palm in his. “Ouch.” 

“You daft girl,” he sighs affectionately, a golden glow consuming his palm as he gently manipulates the digits and imbues her hand with a dash of regeneration energy, and when that’s done, he looks up at her with a smile. “There.”

Her newly-repaired hand connects with his cheek in an attempt at a smack, but it’s chagrined and fond rather than furious. “Idiot,” she says fondly, but there’s no malice in her tone. “Soppy idiot.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	65. Chapter 65

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you strand two immortals together on a planet, after a while instinct will kick in...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Jack & Ashildr; one character confessing to another._

It’s been so long since it last happened that Ashildr doesn’t realise it _is_ happening, not at first. All she knows is that one moment, Captain Jack Harkness - because oh boy, is he fussy about the ‘Captain’ - is an irritating little shit that she’s stranded on a godforsaken planet with, and the next... well, the next, he actually looks... attractive.

 _Oh no,_ she thinks to herself, as she realises she’s in too deep. _Oh no no no._

Purely for something to do, she starts thinking about her and him, in moments of boredom. About how much experience he claims to have, and what it might be like to kiss someone like that. Intense, she concludes. Mind-blowing, in the best of ways. 

“Why do you look at me like that?” Jack asks her one evening, from across the campfire, looking up at her with a wicked gleam in his eyes. “Ma’am?”

“Like you don’t know,” she shoots him a glare. Of _course_ he knows. Of _course_ he can tell. “Don’t make me...”

“Say it,” he commands lazily. “Go on.”

“I...” she clears her throat, dropping her gaze to the flames and turning a violent shade of maroon she sincerely hopes he can’t see. “I like you. Like, like-like you.”

“And?”

“I’d like to kiss you. If that’s... permissible.”

“It is,” he drawls, winking at her in an entirely maddening way. “So, go ahead, sweetheart.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	66. Chapter 66

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saving the day is good, but what comes after is better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From weezerthefangirl's prompt:
> 
> _Twelve/Clara; one character pushing the other against a wall and kissing them._

One minute they’re on an alien spaceship, trying to ignore the wailing of klaxons as they flee down corridor after corridor, and the next they’re stumbling into the TARDIS, panting and whooping in triumph at having saved the day. The Doctor turns on the spot, taking in the sight of a sweaty, flustered Clara, giddy with adrenaline, and he’s not entirely sure where the urge comes from but he pushes her up against the now-closed doors, lifting her into his arms and kissing her breathlessly.

She stiffens up for a moment, and he worries he might’ve crossed a line, or done something wrong, but then she melts under his touch and kisses him back, slipping her tongue into his mouth and wrapping her legs around his waist. By the time she runs out of air and pulls away, pink-cheeked and giggly, his head feels light and he grins at her euphorically. “Nice work,” he says with a wink. “Miss Oswald.”

“Do you mean the kissing, or the saving the ship?”

“Both. Wanna get down, or?”

“No,” she wrinkles her nose cheekily. “I can’t kiss you from down there, can I?”

“Excellent point, teach,” he concurs, and kisses her again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	67. Chapter 67

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara promised him five minutes a day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Twelve/Clara; one character comforting the other._

Sometimes, there are days where her five minutes a day pass uneventfully. Where they race past almost pleasantly, filled with happy memories of strolls in the park, kisses in the sun, and stolen moments in the staff room, eating illicitly gained cake and giggling together like teenagers.

Other days, the five minutes pass like this. Sobs consume her, and her shoulders shake as the magnitude of what she lost overwhelms her, stealing the air from her lungs and reducing her to nothing more than a shadow of a human, weeping in bed and trying to remember how to breathe. She’d tried to hide those days from the Doctor at first. Tried to pretend everything was fine, and that she’d just had a bout of hayfever - regardless of the time of year - or that she’d seen a video of a kitten and it was her time of the month.

But he isn’t stupid. He comes to understand, incrementally, what’s happening, and thus it comes to pass that one morning, as she weeps and shakes and hyperventilates, he slips into bed beside her and wraps her in his arms, holding her against his chest and letting her cry. 

“Sorry,” she mumbles at once, sitting up and trying to wipe her eyes. “Shouldn’t be moping...”

“Clara,” he says quietly. “You promised him five minutes, and you may have them, of course you may, but I’m not leaving you alone to suffer like this through them. He wouldn’t want that.”

“I...” she begins, then her face crumples and she buries her face in his hoodie again, sobbing. “Thank you.”

“I’ve got a duty of care,” he hums into her hair. “My Clara.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	68. Chapter 68

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Big Apple, and two immortals.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _The Doctor and Ashildr on the run in New York._

Ashildr rolls her head on her shoulders, trying to work away some of the stiffness that inevitably comes from sleeping rough on the uncomfortable concrete of the pavements of America. They’d been running from place to place for so long, determined not to be captured, and now... well, now she’s decided that something normal is called for, and talked the Doctor into sightseeing. 

“This is...” he hesitates for a moment beside her, unsure of what to say as he looks out over the city from their vantage point atop the Empire State Building. The sea sparkles, and the lush green of the city’s parks look like bright jewels. “Nice.”

“Majestic,” she corrects, with a self-satisfied little smirk. “It’s a powerful place to be, isn’t it?”

“Calm down,” he rolls his eyes at her words. “Don’t go getting all official, _Mayor Me_.”

“I can’t help it.”

He mutters something under his breath that sounds like _I wish you could,_ and she magnanimously decides to ignore the remark. She inhales a lungful of - admittedly polluted - air, and then notices the shadowy figure approaching them from the right.

“Bollocks,” she mentions, grabbing the Doctor’s hand in what she hopes could be construed by strangers as an entirely normal, familial-type gesture. “Run!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	69. Chapter 69

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Oncoming Storm is most definitely _not_ ticklish. Not at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From allnewtpir's prompt:
> 
> _Twelve/Clara; one character discovering the other is ticklish._

Clara makes the discovery entirely by accident. She’s sat on the Doctor’s lap one day, in the idle way they’ve taken to doing, and her head is nuzzled into the hollow under his chin, carefully positioned so that she can hear the double-beat of his hearts as she languidly turns the pages of her book and enjoys the feel of his arms around her. She moves her head a little as a yawn strikes her, and the Doctor... giggles.

“What?” she asks at once, stupefied by the action. The Doctor spends so much time reminding her of his superior Time Lord nature that she’s unsure what to make of the sound. “What’s funny?”

“Your hair,” he says, before he can stop himself, and she can see the regret in his eyes even as the next words leave his mouth: “Against my chin.”

“Oh, my god,” she breathes, placing her book aside and grinning as she straddles him playfully. “You’re ticklish.”

“No, I’m not,” he says quickly. “I’m really not at all-”

She begins to tickle him then and he squeals at once, writhing away from her hands as she laughs, his own deeper chuckle erupting from his throat unwillingly. 

“Mercy!” he pants after several minutes of squirming and giggling. “Mercy!”

Clara concedes at once, nose-booping him and smiling. “Daft old man.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	70. Chapter 70

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Clara/Danny; something one character finds cute about the other._

Danny is, in truth, entirely mesmerised by Clara Oswald. There’s nothing about her which he doesn’t find surprising or endearing or adorable in some way, and the way that she laughs is one of them. The first time he hears it, he endeavours to make it his life goal to elicit that beautiful noise from her again, and when he does he can’t help but pull her into his arms and press a kiss to her forehead as she giggles, her breath warm against his neck as she smiles. 

He’s not even sure why it’s so cute. It might be the fact that the sound is growing increasingly rare as time goes on, and thus it becomes something to earn, something to win; something precious which is not often endowed upon him. There’s a thousand variations of her laugh, but he loves them all the same. Loves her light giggle; loves her amused huff; loves her full, deep, rich laugh, the kind that draws tears of mirth from her eyes. 

She’s a mystery, is Clara, but making her laugh is a challenge he’s happy to strive towards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	71. Chapter 71

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor attempts to be rock and roll.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From [Alex's](http://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSaddleman/pseuds/TheSaddleman) prompt:
> 
> _The day Clara gets her helix done, the Doctor decides to get his ear pierced too. It doesn't go well..._

“I want one,” the Doctor says in wonder from beside Clara, who’s perched on the cool, smooth leather of the studio’s piercing chair-cum-bed-cum-whatever, admiring the tattoo designs on the opposite wall with a detached sense of curiosity. “I want my ear pierced.”

She has to fight the urge to laugh, if only because there’s a woman stood over her with an enormous needle. “Why?” she asks instead, her tone only very mildly tinged with mirth, and she hopes he’s too oblivious to notice that. “It’ll hurt.”

“Don’t care,” he decides, puffing up with bravado. “Want one.”

“Again,” she says patiently, bracing herself for the impending pain. “Why?”

The piercer is entirely unbothered by the debate. It’s probably one she’s heard before, so Clara isn’t overly concerned about that, but she doesn’t want to have any assumptions made. Not after last time. “Ready?” the woman says, distracting her, and Clara nods, closing her eyes.

“ _Fuck_ ,” she hisses before she can stop herself, as the needle pierces her cartilage, and the piercer laughs. “Sorry.”

“Want one,” the Doctor says again, and Clara looks at him with gritted teeth, trying not to swear again, either at him or due to the pain. “Just on my earlobe, though. That one looked painful.”

“It was.”

“I can do it for you,” the piercer says, in an unnecessarily helpful tone. “She gets a free piercing anyway - it’s buy one get one free.”

“I was going to use that to claim free cleaning fluid,” Clara argues, then catches the Doctor’s puppydog expression and sighs. “But fine. _Fine.”_

The piercer inserts the earrings into Clara’s helix, then hands the Doctor a form to fill out. “I’ll be right back,” the woman says, and disappears out of the small room, but she’s barely out the door before Clara has snatched the form and a nearby pen and started filling it in using her third-best handwriting. 

“Hey!” the Doctor protests. “I can-”

“No, you can’t,” Clara says bluntly. “You’ll put down dodgy answers, then complain when they won’t pierce you. I’ll use my address and my dad’s birthday, OK? Don’t argue.”

The Doctor relents sulkily, signing the form with an unintelligible scrawl when prompted to by Clara, and the piercer comes back just as he neatly adds today’s date. 

“Ready?” the woman asks, casting a summary look at his details, and he nods as she gets out a sterile needle. She keeps up a reassuring patter to him as she adds a tiny dot to his earlobe, squints at it, and then prepares herself, and the Doctor reaches over and takes Clara’s hand almost subconsciously. “Alright,” the piercer says with a smile. “Here we go.”

Clara only looks away for half a second, distracted by her phone pinging, but that must have been long enough, because when she looks back the Doctor is slumped back on the bed, passed out. 

“I am _so_ sorry,” Clara says, half-mortified, half-awed. “He’s never... I can’t apologise enough...” 

“It’s fine,” the woman offers her an unwavering smile. “I’ll make him a brew. Sugar?”

“Six,” Clara says absentmindedly, and the woman nods and disappears off. Clara jabs the Doctor in the ribs with a finger. “Wake up, you prat.”

His eyes flicker open then, and he peers at her in confusion. “Where am I?”

“Being the least rock and roll Time Lord going,” she rolls her eyes. “You fainted getting your ear pierced.”

“I did _not_.”

“You _did_.”

“The Oncoming Storm does not _faint_ when getting his ear pierced. He strategically adjusts his consciousness.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	72. Chapter 72

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt: 
> 
> _While travelling with Bill and Nardole, Twelve suddenly remembers everything about Clara, and decides what to do about that._

He’s not sure why, but something feels different about today. He couldn’t specify a reason, but he’s certain that today is going to be different. And sure enough, that afternoon, he’s in a lecture, rambling on about... oh, he’s not really sure, but undoubtedly a deviation from the syllabus, when he looks around the room and his eyes alight on a figure sat near the back, her face mostly hidden behind dark glasses. He’s halfway into a thought about students and their hangovers when there’s an agonising pain in his frontal lobe, his brain consumed by an acute burning sensation, and that’s the last thing he remembers before he passes out: suffering, and sharpness, and the world going black.

When he opens his eyes again, the lecture theatre is empty save for the girl, Bill, and Nardole, who is scowling at him with a distinct look of chastisement. “Idiot,” his butler says sourly. “You absolute idiot.”

“It was her fault,” the Doctor manages, raising a hand to point at the girl, who is still sat near the back, half in shadow, and Nardole turns his fury towards the young woman. “She...”

“I’m sorry,” she murmurs, descending the steps of the lecture theatre towards him. “I didn’t think... after last time...”

A growing look of comprehension appears on Nardole’s face, and his eyes go wide. “No...” he manages, looking caught between horror and awe. “You’re...”

“Clara Oswald, yes,” the woman grins. “Nice to meet you. Sorry about making him pass out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	73. Chapter 73

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor and Clara spend a night together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Twelve/Clara; them spending their first night together._

Despite the fact Clara has spent many hundreds of nights on the TARDIS, this one is going to be a first. She thinks that may be why she feels so oddly nervous about the prospect of it - not that she’d admit her own uncertainty, of course, because that would be tantamount to weakness, and she doesn’t _do_ weakness. Instead, she takes a deep, steadying breath, smooths her hair down for the tenth time, and then sits and waits for the inevitable knock on her bedroom door.

When it comes, seconds later, she jumps even though she’s been expecting it, then calls out “come in!”

The door opens a crack and the Doctor peers in, smiling at her apprehensively as he steps over the threshold into the hallowed, sacred space of her bedroom. He’s been in here a few times, sure, but only to help her into bed if she was tired or unable to do so herself, and never like this. Never dressed only in a t-shirt and his ludicrous plaid trousers, and never smiling at her like her shy pupils do, all anxiety and self-consciousness and downcast eyes.

She relaxes then, knowing she needs to take charge of the situation, and knowing that that is absolutely something she can do. She pats the bed next to her and watches the tension go out of his shoulders as he crosses the room and takes a seat, her arms encircling his torso as she cuddles into him and feels him reciprocate the embrace. “Hello,” she huffs softly against his neck. “Are you going to lie down, or am I going to have to sleep like this?”

“Sorry,” he says at once, arranging himself roughly horizontally, lying on his side with his arm around her and his forehead pressed against her own. “OK?”  
  
“Better than OK,” she murmurs. “Safest place in the world.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	74. Chapter 74

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor is not dealing well with being alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Twelve/Clara; one character asking the other to return._

He misses Clara Oswald every single day. Then again, such a measure of time seems disingenuous, because “every single day” would imply that there may be moments in those 24 hours when he is not thinking of her, or aching for her, or longing for her at his side. Her absence wounds him so deeply he feels a physical pain: an ache in his chest, over his left heart, where she had once filled a void of 2000 years of uncertainty and pain with her laughter and her smile and her kindness. She told him she wanted to get on with her life, and he’s determined to let her, even if that means ignoring how badly he wants her back at his side, and overlooking how much he craves hearing her voice. 

 _She’s with Danny now,_ he tells himself, over and over, in an attempt to heal himself. _She’s back with Danny, and she’s happy, and she’s safe, and she’s having a normal human life, and as far as she’s concerned I’m back on Gallifrey and certainly not moping around after a five foot one English teacher who doesn’t even come up to my chin._

Only he's moping, and he knows it. 

His willpower cracks one night as he lays in bed, and phones her. Withholds the number, in case anyone at her end gets any ideas about declining his call. Listens to the line ring. Feels his hearts soar then sink when her weary voice answers.

“Hello?” she asks, and her voice is flat and emotionless, so unlike the Clara he knows.

“It’s me,” he says awkwardly, then quantifies: “The Doctor.”

He expects her voice to light up then. Instead, she only says “oh” in the same dull tone. “Hi.”

“Please come back,” he pleads before he can stop himself. “Please, come back to me. I can’t... I don’t want... I can’t do this without you.”

“No.”

“What?” he blinks in confusion, unsure how she could deny him - or deny herself. “Why not?”

“It’s complicated,” she says sharply, then hangs up. He’s left staring at the phone, feeling his hearts break.

God, he misses her. God, he needs her. God, he loves her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	75. Chapter 75

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Twelve/Clara; spending a quiet moment together._

In between all the running and the blasting and the screaming and the crying, they tumble into an out-of-the-way cupboard together, trying to gather their thoughts and come up with a new plan. Or at least, that’s the general objective of the ducking aside, as far as the Doctor is concerned, but then Clara’s face goes all weird and he realises what’s about to happen with horror.

“No,” he says immediately, stepping forward and wrapping her in his arms. “No, you’re safe. It’s alright, my Clara. I’ve got you.”

“I...” she sucks in a breath that does little to alleviate her panicked respiration, then buries her face in his chest. “I just...”

“I know,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to her forehead and then leaving his lips there, closing his eyes to the battle around them and feeling the world around them fall away, until it’s just the two of them. “I know.”

He listens to her muffled sobs, and then she takes a deep breath and looks up at him with a look of defiance he adores, but equally knows is a facade. “Ready to go back out.”

“No, you’re not,” he tells her, keeping his arms around her and holding her protectively. “Just one more minute.” 

She acquiesces to his will in silence, but he knows what she wants to say.

_Thank you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	76. Chapter 76

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From allnewtpir's prompt:
> 
> _"Girl Who Died"; 12 tells Clara about how soon she'll be gone and he'll have that pain. Clara responds with a kiss, telling 12 she loves him, and not to worry about the future but to embrace the now. 12 then gets a second wind and remembers where he got his face._

“I don't mean the war,” he confessed, his voice trembling as he looked down at his hands, afraid of what he might see in Clara’s eyes if he looked at her now. Pity, perhaps, or concern. He wasn’t sure he could stomach either, not after what had happened. “I'll lose any war you like. I'm sick of losing people.”

He looked up then, glancing at her face but refusing to meet her gaze. Her eyes were wide and her expression pained, and he clenched his fists as he pictured the inevitable: losing her. Whether it be to death or to another man - or woman - or to a job or to anything... he would lose her, that much he knew. And it would break him completely.

“Look at you, with your eyes, and your never giving up, and your anger, and your kindness. One day, the memory of that will hurt so much that I won't be able to breathe, and I'll do what I always do. I'll get in my box and I'll run and I'll run, in case all the pain ever catches up. And every place I go, it will be there.”

His confession tore at his voice, his words choked by emotions he had fought so long to conceal that he had half-hoped they would never re-emerge. Clara only looked at him silently, and he cursed his own stupidity and his own honesty. He’d been a fool.

“Doctor,” she said after a moment’s hesitation. “Doctor, you’re not going to lose me.”

“I am,” he stated bluntly, not in the mood for an argument. “You’re human; you’ll-”

Clara approached him, placing her hand on his chest and leaning up to kiss him before he could finish his sentence. In that instant, the universe reduced down to the two of them, stood in each other’s embrace in a Viking settlement. No wars. No hatred. No suffering. Just two people, sharing an intimate moment.

“No,” she said, once she’d pulled away. “You won’t, because I love you, and I’m not going anywhere. Right?”

“Right,” he said weakly, then added: “Can I have another kiss, just for... reassurance’s sake?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	77. Chapter 77

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The curious case of a Doctor, a palace, and an awfully familiar monarch...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From allnewtpir's prompt:
> 
> _We know Jenna is Queen Victoria these days. Obvious prompt is obvious, and sorry if it's been done, but I'd like 12/Clara and her majesty is an echo, standard mistaken identity hijinks thus ensuing._

The Doctor is, as far as he can tell, geographically disorientated. Not lost, no, because Time Lords do not ever get lost, not even in buildings as labyrinthine as Buckingham Palace itself. He rounds a corner, spots a familiar figure at the end, and feels a surge of relief wash over him: wherever his companion may be is where he needs to be, and he grins. 

“Clara!” he calls, grateful to have located his tiny companion, and it’s then he notices that she’s changed her clothes. He jogs up to her, looking her up and down and arching an eyebrow critically. “Not sure about the frock, it makes you look enormous. In a short kind of way.”

“I beg your pardon?” she asks, in a voice far removed from her usual tone. She places her hands on the curve of her stomach, and scowls as she continues: “I’ll have you know that I am expecting a child, and I could have you locked up for such impudence. Which is, of course, overlooking the fact that I have no clue whatsoever who you are, or why you’re in my palace.” 

“A child?” he blinks in consternation, trying to make sense of the situation. “But I don’t... you...”

“Yes, a child. Who are you? Tell me, or I shall call for my guards.”

The penny drops, and he abruptly understands the cause of his confusion. “You’re not Clara.”

“You don’t know who I am?” Not-Clara arches an eyebrow, and the Doctor takes a step back, appraising her through narrowed eyes.

“Ah,” he says nervously, realising he is indeed fully aware. “Your Majesty.”

He nods his head in an awkward little semi-bow, and it’s then that Clara runs around the corner and collides with him in a tangle of limbs and hair and muttered swear words.

“Ow!” she protests, dusting herself down, and then looks from him to her doppelgänger, her eyes widening. “Oh my god. I’m the queen now?”

The Doctor groans. “Dear god, this is going to do nothing for your egomania, is it?”

“Nothing you’ll like, no.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	78. Chapter 78

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara, the Doctor, and _Frozen._ What could possibly go wrong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _The Doctor saw Frozen with Clara while cuddling._

“Why do we have to watch this film?” the Doctor protests for the hundredth time that hour, his tone whinier than most of her students. “It sounds stupid. Not to mention traumatic; I’ve met ice-oriented lifeforms before, and it didn’t end well.”

“I know,” Clara reminds him patiently, sitting down beside him with an enormous bowl of popcorn and placing it on the coffee table, knowing the food will distract him from his complaining. “I was there too, remember? Saved your miserable arse.”

“Right,” he says sheepishly, taking a handful of popcorn and munching on it thoughtfully before continuing in a more inquisitive voice: “Why _are_ we watching it, though?”

“Because it’s nearly Christmas, and this a wintery film, and it’s cute, and also because I said so,” Clara nuzzles into his side and presses play, scooting onto his lap before he can object, humming happily as his arms encircle her and he presses a kiss to her temple. “Now, shush.”

“Yes boss.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	79. Chapter 79

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Missy gifts Clara a somewhat unusual android.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the very long and detailed prompt:
> 
> _“Android...” Clara whispered._   
>  _“Yesterday you seemed very keen on that idea.”_   
>  _“I assumed you were joking, Missy! We were at the club for god's sake. You're asking me to take a stranger to my apartment. Let me be more specific - not a man, but a robot made to satisfy people sexually...”_   
>  _“Don't be afraid to say it, dear. A sex robot, a mechanic lover, an android-whore. I'm not asking you to try him out, am I. It's enough if you show him what daily life looks like. To pleasure humans, he needs more than statistics.”_   
>  _“What makes him different from the models available on the market?”_   
>  _Missy put down her cuppa. She was quiet for a moment. “He's emotionally intelligent, although he isn't aware of it. He's independent and capable of making his own decisions.”_   
>  _“Wait, you've given him free will, but you kept the fact away from him?”_

Clara’s first day with the robot (she can’t quite bring herself to call it a sex android) is... bizarre, to say the least. She’s not entirely sure about the general behaviour of such things, but the fact it makes her breakfast in bed isn’t unwelcome, and nor is the fact that it washes up afterwards. When it comes to leaving it alone in her flat, however, she’s slightly more reticent, but it only stares at her - well, she assumes it stares; it doesn’t exactly have eyes, just two circular lights - in a politely chagrined way, and then assures her it will merely hibernate until her return. _Fuck it,_ she thinks to herself, resigning herself to the weirdness of the situation, then heads to work, praying that she’ll still have a flat when she gets home.

When she arrives back at her place that evening, she’s pleased to find the block of flats is still standing and still remarkably intact, and even more pleased to find that the android - rather than hibernating, as promised - appears to have cleaned the place from top to bottom. She could get used to this. The whole sex business aside.

“Clara?” a warmly familiar voice calls, and she steps into the kitchen to find dinner on the table, lit by candlelight and accompanied by wine, with the Doctor sat in one chair, smirking in an oddly alluring way. Her heart stutters, and her mouth falls open in a way that she knows is entirely clichéd, but doesn’t quite care.

“Hello,” she says uncertainly, thrown by the thoughtfulness and intimacy gesture. “This is very... urm... more-than-friendly.”

“Well, it’s been so long, and I... well, I want us to be more than friends,” he says, indicating she should sit, and OK, she’s a little disconcerted by his honesty, but fuck it, this is sweet of him, and she shouldn’t complain. She doesn’t take a seat, instead choosing to lean in the door and look down at him with a fond smile, enjoying the height advantage for a few seconds longer. “My Clara.”

The words are enough to compel her to circle the table and lean down and kiss him, and it’s only then that she tastes the faintest tang of metal and realises the truth. She pulls away and blinks down at him - no, _it_ \- in horror.

“You’re the android,” she says in an accusatory tone. “Why are you... how are you...”

“While you slept last night, I scanned your subconscious to ascertain your deepest desires,” the Not-Doctor says in that familiar Scottish lilt. “And undertaking sexual activity with this Time Lord was at the top of that list. Do you consent to participating in such an activity?”

Clara pauses for a moment, weighing up the - admittedly less than sexy - offer. _Fuck it,_ she thinks, for the second time that day. “Yeah, I do,” she murmurs, leaning down to kiss it-slash-him again. “But first... dinner.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	80. Chapter 80

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara Oswald has a bit of a reputation among her students. Nothing bad, of course. Just as a defender of rights.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Could you write something about a trans boy at Coal Hill coming out to Clara please?_

Clara is worried about one of her students, which admittedly is nothing new. She’s worried about _all_ of them if she’s honest, about their exams and their coursework and their wellbeing and their happiness, but she’s especially worried about this one. Daisy Rendell used to engage with her lessons enthusiastically, but now she tends to sit at the back in silence, picking at the sleeves of her jumper and staring out the window with a tearful expression. Clara’s not stupid. She knows that pressing the teenager to talk won’t help the situation, so she waits, and she watches, and eventually Daisy hangs back after school one day, loitering in front of Clara’s desk with her eyes downcast. 

“Hey,” Clara says with her best supportive smile, keeping her tone soft and non-threatening. “What can I do for you, Daisy?”

She notices the way the teenager flinches at the name as though she’s been hit, and she understands at once. 

“Is there another name you’d prefer me to use?” Clara asks gently, and the teenager looks up at her with surprise, looking like a deer in the headlights. “Because I can do that.” 

“I... ah...” the teen stammers. “Yes. Please. If that’s... if that’s alright. Damian.”

“OK,” Clara nods, making a mental note to update her mark book and the registers. “And pronouns?”

“I...” Damian’s face crumples. “He. _He._ I’m a boy and I know I’m a boy but no one will listen and I don’t wanna wear this stupid skirt but my mum makes me and I hate it, I hate living at home, I hate having to have long hair, and I can’t... I just, I can’t deal with this, miss, I _can’t_...”

“Damian,” Clara says in a low, reassuring voice, watching the teen’s eyes light up at the name. “I’m listening, OK? I’m listening and I want to help. You can do this, I promise you that, and I will do everything I can to help you. That includes giving anyone detention who uses the other name, or the wrong pronouns.”

“But my mum...”

“Would you like me to speak to her?”

Damian hesitates a moment, then nods. 

“Would you like to be there when I do?”

Damian nods again, a little more uncertainly this time.

“OK, so we can do that. In the meantime... now, I didn’t tell you this, OK, or I’ll be in trouble, but if you rip your school skirt up the seam, I’ll give you a note saying you can wear jeans until your mum sorts something, OK?” 

Damian looks at her with wide-eyed gratitude, tears filling his eyes. “Miss...” 

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	81. Chapter 81

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara Oswald. Scary, but helpful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Please could you continue the trans boy and Clara story?_

Clara meets with Ms Rendell the next day, with Damian at her side fidgeting nervously and mumbling his words. She’d prepared herself for the worst, and memorised entire lists of facts and figures and examples to throw at the woman if need be, but luckily Ms Rendell turns out to be the sort of parent who only blinks at their child, adjusts their use of pronouns, and assures them that they will always be there for them, no matter what. “Although,” the woman says with a low chuckle, as Damian weeps in her arms, clinging to his mother in a way he probably hasn’t done in years. “I’m still not buying you an Xbox. Sorry son.” 

Clara watches the way Damian’s face lights up at the word ‘son,’ and she smiles down at her pupil, glad that she could facilitate this tender moment between a mother and child. She knows that tomorrow comes the challenge of telling other students, and so she sits down that evening with Miss Jacobs and formulates a strategy.

The next day she stands in front of the class with Damian, now clad in a pair of school trousers and with his hair clipped short, and announces to the assembled teenagers: 

“This is Damian.”

“No,” a voice at the back of the class mutters in the kind of low tone that Clara has become accustomed to picking up on. “That’s Daisy.”

“Right, if I hear a single person using that name intentionally, I swear to you all now that I will give this entire class detention for a week. Is that understood?”

There’s an extremely begrudging chorus of ‘yes Miss Oswald.’

“You will use his name. You will call him Damian. You will use the correct pronouns. Any intentional misgendering will result in class-wide detention. Got it?”

“Yes Miss Oswald.”

“Good,” Clara nods, gratified that they’ve understood. “Damian, take a seat.” 

To their credit, the class make the utmost effort to get it right. Sure, they slip occasionally, but one or another of them will seek to correct their peers, and she doesn’t hear a single student use the dead name. By Friday afternoon, Damian looks comfortable in his surroundings, and Clara allows herself to breathe again. When he hovers in front of her desk that afternoon, after the final bell has rung, she smiles at him warmly. 

“Hey, Damian.” 

“Miss, I ah... thank you. For being. Y’know. A bit scary but helpful.”

“Well. you’re welcome.” 

“Really, it... it means a lot.” 

“I know,” Clara smiles. “You have a good weekend, OK? Keep badgering your mum about that Xbox.”

“I will,” Damian grins. “See you later, Miss.”

He ducks out of the classroom and Clara sits for a moment, reflecting. Her phone lights up with a text and she picks it up, grinning at the message.

**The Doctor:** _How was school? Did you fight off any aliens?_

She smiles, and fires back: _No, but I like to think I saved a life._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	82. Chapter 82

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor recalls something very important.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From allnewtpir's prompt:
> 
> _We know Clara inspired the Doctor's creed, "Never Give Up...". What if in the middle of "Listen", 12 remembered that moment and realized it was her?_

“It was you.”

“What was me?” Clara looks at him from across the space base, the silence weighing heavily between them as the Doctor only blinks at her in stupefaction, trying to process the memories flickering through his mind’s eye. “Doctor?”

“The...” he shakes his head, realising the pragmatics of the matter. “It doesn’t matter.”

“What doesn’t? Dear god, what is _with_ you today?”

“Clara, you don’t... please forget it. OK? Just forget I said anything.”

“Fine,” she mutters, scowling. “Fine, I will.”

They lapse back into a terse silence as the Doctor considers the facts of the matter. The fact that Clara Oswald imbued him with courage at a time when courage was the one facet of his personality that he lacked; the fact that Clara Oswald was the one who saved his young life by reassuring him that he wasn’t a coward, as the other boys had branded him; and that Clara Oswald was, as ever, his saving grace.

It’s this last fact that encourages him to reach over and take her hand, bridging the space between them in more ways than one. She looks down at their intertwined fingers with a quizzical expression, and he blushes.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, by way of an explanation. “Just... thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	83. Chapter 83

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, he has to do the running for the both of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From [Alex's](http://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSaddleman/pseuds/TheSaddleman) prompt:
> 
> _Twelve carrying Clara because she's tuckered out._

“We need to run,” the Doctor insists for what feels like the hundredth time that hour, wringing his hands together as he looks down at where his tiny companion is crumpled on the ground, and then turns his gaze to the flames creeping towards them from the horizon. The planet was ablaze, and they needed to flee before it was too late. “Clara, we need to get back to the TARDIS, or we’re going to-”

“I can’t,” she whimpers, not looking up at him as she spoke, and he fought the urge to roll his eyes. “I’ve told you, I can’t.”

“Well, why not?!” he snaps, regretting his furious tone even before the words have fully left his mouth, and Clara raises her gaze to blink at him in shock, tears running down her face and leaving trails in the dust coating her skin. For a moment, she only stares at him, her expression wounded and hurt, and then her jaw sets and she gets to her feet with difficulty, leaning on the wall as she does so. 

“This is why,” she says coldly, taking a step towards him and crying out as her foot makes contact with the ground. She stumbles into his arms and he realises something is terribly wrong, looking down at her leg and shifting her carefully as he examines her. “Don’t,” she argues feebly, but he takes no notice of her protests. “Don’t bother.” 

“Clara, you’re hurt,” he says pragmatically, noticing a jagged hole in her tights and then a large, angry gash running the length of her calf. “How did you do that?” 

“I don’t know,” she says in a small voice. “I think when we left the control room, but I don’t know.” 

“How did you get this far?” he asks in wonder, proud of how brave she has already been. “It must be agony.”

“I don’t know,” she says again, leaning her forehead against his shoulder and exhaling shakily. “Just go, OK? Just go, and get the TARDIS, and come back for me.”

“There’s no time.”

“So go,” she swallows and raises her head, meeting his eyes bravely. “Go, I’ll only slow you down.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he scoffs, and before she can argue he’s lifted her onto his back, holding her with the utmost care and resolving to do the running for the both of them. “Hold on, OK?”

She hums an assertion, and he smiles. 

“To the TARDIS.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	84. Chapter 84

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Koschei and Theta Sigma, the oddest of housemates. Or whatever the correct term was when you lived on a spaceship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Bill, 12 and the Master (Simm) living together on the TARDIS._

“For god sake,” the Master snaps, striding into the console room and scowling blackly at the Doctor with the kind of look that would make lesser men quake in fear. “ _It_ is cooking again.”

“I’m gonna need you to be more specific than that,” the Doctor replies without looking up from the screen he’s studying with a feigned air of nonchalance. “Who do you mean, and you do mean them as the subject or object of that sentence?”

“The one with the hair.”

“Bill.”

“Whatever. Her. She’s cooking again.”

“Anything exciting?”

“I didn’t bother asking,” the Master snarls, appalled by the very suggestion. “That’d make her feel important.”

“You know,” the Doctor says, raising his gaze and arching an eyebrow at his nemesis-turned-TARDISmate. “You’re going to have to stop with the speciesism if you want this to work out.” 

“Who says I want this to work out?”

“You do. Because you need me to give you lifts to places, otherwise you moan, and get bored, and cause trouble.”

“I _like_ causing trouble.”

“Yes, well, sadly I don’t. Now; Bill is cooking. You will refer to Bill by name, and by the correct pronouns, and you will desist with the casual speciesism and sexism. Are we clear on that?”

“Crystal,” the Master mutters sourly. “And I think it was bacon, in case you’re interested.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	85. Chapter 85

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a strange man stood outside Coal Hill. Not a new phenomenon, but the usual weirdos don't usually snarl at the students.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Clara meets the Master before he becomes Missy?_

Clara isn’t entirely sure who the man stood outside the gates of Coal Hill is, but he’s giving her the creeps in a pretty major way. His eyes are hard and cold, and his mouth is fixed into the kind of permanent sneer that several of her past, much-less-well-chosen boyfriends had so enjoyed cultivating, particularly whenever she opened her mouth. 

He’s also garbed head-to-toe in black, despite the July heat, and he seems entirely unmoved by the sun beating down on him as he stands just past the railings, scowling at the floods of teenagers who are heading past him in order to get home and enjoy their weekends. One young lad brushes past him and he snarls at the youngster, and it’s then that Clara resolves to confront the arrogant-looking sod. He can stand around and look sulky all he likes, but scaring the students is another matter entirely.

She strides across the playground and squares up to him - which is admittedly difficult, given that he’s got a seven-inch height advantage, but she’s still going to _try,_ dammit. 

“Hello, short stuff,” he says in a patronising tone. “Can I help you?”

“Excuse me?” she asks incredulously, raising an eyebrow in a silent challenge. “You’ve been staring at _my_ school for ten minutes, shouldn’t _I_ be asking _you_ that?”

“ _Your_ school? Well, aren’t you humans adorable? Ever the narcissists.” 

Clara feels her stomach drop, and she wonders whether she could slip her phone out of her pocket and text the Doctor behind her back without this stranger noticing. But there’s a risk of her Time Lord dismissing her attempts at coherence as another drunk text, and she’s frankly unwilling for another lecture about drinking and typing, and-

“Don’t bother,” the stranger says, as though he can read her mind. And then: “I _can_ read your mind, although it’s pretty much leaking, so it’s not an overly admirable skill given the circumstances.”

“Who the hell are you?” Clara breathes, but the man only smirks more widely. 

“An old friend. Or enemy. It depends upon your definition. I believe one day soon we’ll have ‘fun girl time.’” He looks like he’s about to gag as he says the words, and it’s then that the penny drops and Clara understands. 

“Missy?”

“No, not yet. Aren’t you paying attention? And besides, do these look like breasts to you?” 

He indicates his chest region, and Clara blushes. “No,” she stammers. “Sorry. I. Ah. Well. Nice to meet you. I think. But could you, well, please leave?”

“With pleasure.”

He turns on his heel and stalks away, and it’s only once he’s out of sight that Clara realises he never did explain his presence. 

 _Please be benign,_ she prays. _I don’t have time for GCSEs_ and _an attempt to take over the world. Again._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	86. Chapter 86

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The TARDIS is broken, and Clara is determined that she can fix it. But why? And more to the point, how?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From allnewtpir's prompt:
> 
> _The TARDIS goes offline, and while 11 or 12 are at a loss as to how to fix it, Clara promptly does so, casually mentioning her Gallifrey echo's mechanic work. She then mentions telling 1 which one to take and that causes both her and 11/12 to discuss her past lives, or the ones she can remember._

“For god’s sake!” the Doctor mutters, kicking the TARDIS console with his boot and then scowling at it as it emits a shower of sparks over his legs in a way that even Clara understands to be chastising. “Why can’t you just cooperate for once?”

The TARDIS beeps forlornly, and the Doctor begins muttering in an odd, low, guttural language that Clara dimly recognises as Gallifreyan. She doesn’t need the time machine to translate for her to be able to recognise a universal symptom of “Men Failing at DIY”: under-their-breath swearing. She rolls her eyes, setting aside her book with a sigh of regret, and then getting to her feet and affixing the Doctor with a stern look.

“Language,” she chides in her best teacher voice, before descending the stairs to him and peering at the console. “Can I help?”

The Doctor bites back a bark of disdain that Clara magnanimously chooses to ignore, and gives her an incredulous look. “Not unless you can fix a dematerialisation circuit, which no offence, I sincerely doubt you can.”

“Offence very much taken. I might be a woman but if I can fix my bike I can try to fix this.”

“You’re not a Time Lord.”

“So?” Clara snaps. “Wiring is wiring, circuits are circuits.”

Clara looks down at the tiny cluster of wires and switches which are serving as the source of the Doctor’s ire, and she feels a faint pull at the back of her mind, as though something familiar is demanding her attention. She reaches past the Doctor’s clenched fists and swaps over two wires, adjusting the pin holding one down and then tapping the entire circuit with her fingernail and watching as the central column re-illuminated and hummed into life.

“How the...” she realises then that the Doctor is gaping at her in amazement, his eyes wide with awe as he struggles to find the words. “How did you do that?”

“I dunno,” she shrugs, unsure how to explain it to him without sounding mad. “It was like... muscle memory, or something.”

“How could you...”

“I think I was there,” Clara blurts, a flash of memory coming to her. “I think I was on Gallifrey, helping with the TARDISes in the repair shop. But I don’t... it’s a weird memory. It’s like it’s not quite there.”

“You...” the Doctor looks at her a little oddly, his head tilted 45 degrees to the side as he surveys her through half-closed lids. Without warning, he leans over and lifts her hair into a ponytail, squinting at her as he does so, then he wraps his arms around her waist and laughs. “Oh, you clever thing.”

“I...” Clara blinks at him in bafflement but returns the hug, grateful for the rare physical contact. “What does touching my hair have to do with hugging me?”

“You told me which one to take.”

“I’m gonna need more than that, daft old man.” 

“Which TARDIS,” he tells her excitedly. “You pointed out which TARDIS to steal. Oh, my Clara. You are just... astonishing.”

“Thank you,” she says, blushing despite herself, because compliments from the uncomfortable, awkward Time Lord are rare enough to elicit such a response. “I think... I don’t know if I can remember that, but I remember the workshops, and the-”

“Right, this elicits tea. And my full attention.”

“Steady on,” she teases, as the Doctor takes her by the hand. “You know, we’ve got all the time in the world. Especially now I’ve fixed our TARDIS.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	87. Chapter 87

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's that time of the month. Much to the Doctor's chagrin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Clara gone done got her period. Twelve is, well, Twelve._

“Are you ill?” the Doctor demands to know, almost as soon as he’s stepped out of the TARDIS and onto her lounge rug. She was in a sour mood anyway, but she feels her irritation crank up a notch at his accusation. “Your face looks funny.”

Before she can answer in the negative, he’s whipped out his sonic and is scanning her up and down with the kind of determination that would be admirable if it weren’t so annoying. 

“This is perplexing,” the Doctor narrows his eyes at her, like she’s some kind of particularly intriguing problem to be solved. “Your hormone levels are insane. You’re not pregnant, are you? Is that a thing you might be? I’m not wishing to make assumptions here, so please don’t throw anything at me, but have you been sleeping with any men? Or women? Or non-binary people? Those?”

“Very much no.”

“Are you sure?”

“Quite sure.”

“How can you be that sure?”

“Because I’ve got my period.”

The Doctor turns very, very red, and Clara feels a superb sense of satisfaction that the self-proclaimed ‘superior’ Time Lord is, much like any other man, apparently allergic to all mention of menstruation. Which is somewhat ironic, given the name.

“Ah,” he stammers, dropping his gaze to his feet as though he might catch something just by looking at her. “That’s. Urm. Well. That’s. Not. Good. Is it? I don’t know. Would you like me to urm. I don’t know, fetch you something? I mean, other than those things you humans buy. The nappy things.”

“Sanitary pads,” Clara corrects, purely for the joy of seeing him turn a darker shade of red. “No, ta. I’m a tampon kind of girl. They’re much more comfortable than sitting in a pool of your own blood.”

The colour abruptly leaves the Doctor’s face, and he peers at Clara with fascinated horror. “You don’t really bleed _that_ much, do you?” he asks, apparently appalled by the very thought. “I mean, how would you function while doing that?”

“Yes, women do, and I’ve functioned perfectly fine with it for years now, including saving planets with you while coping with debilitating cramps, because dear god, why don’t you stock paracetamol onboard your bloody time machine?” 

“You... have?”

“Yes.”

The Doctor looks slightly like he might faint. “But... shouldn’t you be... I don’t know, confined to bed for the day?”

“The day?” Clara asks, raising her eyebrows. “It lasts a bit longer than a day.”

“You...” the Doctor’s eyes go very wide. “You bleed for more than a day? And don’t die?”

“Correct,” Clara rolls her eyes, bemused by his barrage of questions. “You have a wife, why don’t you know this?”

“River’s... different.”

“Menopausal? Trans? On the right kind of space contraception?”

“No, just different,” he waves a hand vaguely. “She doesn’t feel the need to discuss these things with me. Unlike you.”

“You started it!”

“And I very much regret that decision!”

“Good, so go and make me a hot water bottle.”

The Doctor looks slightly like he might argue, so Clara smiles sweetly and adds: “Or I could mention clots, in any of their assorted varieties.”

The Doctor leaves the lounge so fast that Clara is genuinely concerned the carpet might catch fire, and she leans back on the sofa with a contented smirk. Bending him to her will can be _such_ fun sometimes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	88. Chapter 88

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's always known how to make her melt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Throat kisses._

Clara knows how it goes now. There’s a certain look that the Doctor will give her, and she’ll step into his arms and pull him down to her level with a practiced ease. (She tries not to think about the first few times this happened; all awkward fumbles and clinking teeth and backs thrown out by the height difference. They’re almost ballet-like now in their motions, but that is something born of familiarity and practice and far too many incidents of wounded ego for her to count.)

He’ll start to kiss her, gently at first as his lips trace from the corner of her mouth to her jaw, carrying the faint imprint of her lipstick across her skin, and then he’ll press kisses down her neck, making her melt. Her knees will buckle and his arm will find the small of her back, holding her to him as he smirks and skims his lips from the column of her throat to her pulse point and then back up the expanse of her neck, his fingers fumbling with the buttons of her blouse or her dress or whatever previously-immaculate outfit she had chosen that day. Both of them giggling like teenagers, more breathless than they both should be by rights, but running down a corridor is nothing compared to this. Running down a corridor is incomparable to his hands on her bare skin and his lips on hers. This is fire and passion and lust and love and a thousand other things she can’t put into words.

It’s consuming them both, but she has no inclination to stop. None whatsoever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	89. Chapter 89

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time Lords and birthdays are not a good combination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt: 
> 
> _Missy decides to cosplay as Clara or Bill on the Doctor's birthday (set during the vault years) also Bill enters the vault at the end._

The Doctor, by and large, hated his birthday. Admittedly since he’d found himself stuck in Bristol and in control of a large, securely-locked vault containing his best-friend-slash-nemesis, the day had improved somewhat - if only because his aforementioned best-friend-slash-nemesis had a tendency to throw him yearly one-woman parties that invariably contained a version of musical chairs that always ended up with him sat on her lap, and then her sat on parts of him in a less than clothed fashion.

Today, however, he was in a foul mood. He’d argued with four students, told Nardole to go to Glasgow in search of tartan paint - if only to avoid his butler’s pitying looks - and then discovered the university canteen was sold out of muffins. What was the point in being friends with Bill Potts, canteen worker extraordinaire, if there wasn’t even going to be cake available to him on his birthday?

He pressed his hand against the vault’s biometric security device and then stepped inside, scanning the surroundings for Missy and locating her perched atop the piano as she was wont to do when feeling theatrical - which was always. That wasn’t anything unusual. What _was_ unusual was her garb: a short blue dress in an outdated earth style, with a white apron tied over the top of it in a passing imitation of a diner waitress. He had no idea where she’d got it from, or how, but he recognised it at once, and before he could think better of it he asked: “why are you dressed as Clara?”

“Hah!” Missy cried triumphantly, all but punching the air in glee. “I knew you remembered the puppy.”

“Bollocks,” he muttered under his breath, realising he’d been caught out. “Why the hell... how did you get that?”

“She dropped by,” Missy said with a shrug, and the Doctor’s world stopped. “Said to say hello, and loaned me the dress for purposes of grown-up fun.”

“Did she...” he stammered. “Did she actually?”

“Of course she did,” Missy rolled her eyes. “Comes by once a year or so. We have fun girly chats. Sometimes she ties me up - she claims it’s payback for Skaro, but I’m not so sure - and we complain about you.”

“And you never told me this because...?”

“I didn’t want your brain to start dripping out of your ears.” 

“Right.”

“Oh god, don’t cry.”

The Doctor put his hands to his cheeks and found them wet. He wasn’t even aware of his response to the familiar name and stimulus, but somehow his body was ahead of his brain, and providing him with a tangible reminder of his loss.

“I’ll take it off,” Missy murmured, unbuttoning the dress. “Don’t worry, Thete. I’m sorry. Hey. I’m sorry.”

He held out his arms wordlessly and she stepped into them, uncharacteristically silent as she nuzzled her head into his shoulder. “It’s OK,” he mumbled into her hair, although he didn’t know whether he was trying to reassure her or himself. “I’m alright.”

* * *

 

When Bill swung by the vault a couple of hours later, she found the two Time Lords curled up together in an armchair, Missy clad only in the Doctor’s shirt and draped over his lap as he slumbered.

“I, ah, brought cake,” Bill said softly, holding up the box and trying _very_ hard not to look at Missy’s cleavage, or legs, or anything else for that matter. “For him. When he’s awake.”

“We could get started without him,” Missy said with a wicked grin, and Bill’s brain short-circuited. The Time Lady rolled her eyes. “The cake, dear.”

“Oh,” Bill said dumbly. “Right. The cake.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	90. Chapter 90

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill learns about regeneration.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Bill learns of regeneration after 'The Lie of the Land.'_

“Hang on,” Bill stops munching on the burger she’s been determinedly working through for the last ten minutes. She might have finished it quicker if she didn’t keep stopping to ask questions, but the chances of that are slim to none. “So you can just like... change your whole face?”

“And body, yes,” the Doctor sticks a chip in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully and swallowing before expanding: “And mind, I suppose. Personality wise.”

“So, does that mean...” Bill’s eyes widen. “You could just like, stub your toe and end up as a woman?”

“Don’t get any ideas,” the Doctor teases, and she elbows him playfully. “It would take something a little more dramatic than a stubbed toe, I hope, but yes, I could.”

“Doesn’t the thought scare you though? Like, if I woke up one day and I was a bloke, I’d totally lose it. It’d be terrifying. I wouldn’t know how to like, I dunno, pee standing up, or do up a tie, or deal with all that ego, or whatever. I’d have no idea.”

“Well, I believe there are manuals for that sort of thing,” the Doctor quips. “On the internet. And my companions are usually female, so I suppose there’s always the practical advice front.”

“In the nicest of ways,” Bill makes a face. “I’m never taking you bra shopping.”

“Fine by me,” the Doctor acquiesces. “Now, finish your burger. You’ve got that essay to write.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	91. Chapter 91

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The customers aren't familiar to Clara. Not at first, anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From allnewtpir's prompt:
> 
> _Clara goes to take River/Amy/Rory's order [in her TARDIS/diner], recognizes River, then sees an 11 who doesn't know her yet._

“Hey,” Clara says, not really paying attention to the gaggle of customers filling the booth in front of her. It’s been a long day, and although she knows that biologically she can’t get tired, some instincts linger on and her mind is crying out for rest, if not sleep. “What can I get you?”

“Well, aren’t you adorable?” an all too familiar voice asks, and Clara’s head snaps up to take in the sight of River Song, who is smirking at Clara with the kind of look that would’ve been flattering, if the situation weren’t so laughably bizarre. The Doctor’s wife is here. The Doctor’s wife and - Clara casts a quick glance over her companions - oh god, the one with the legs that went on for days. This is unfair. This is markedly unfair, because much as she would like to flirt, this could get tremendously awkward, and not least because the chap sat beside Amy was scowling at Clara ever so slightly in a way that she recognised as “protective.” Which meant she was probably checking Amy out. Oops.

Blushing, she looks down and straightens her dress in an attempt to regain her composure. “Thanks,” she says with feigned nonchalance. “Can I get you anything?” 

“Where’s that accent from?” the young man asks, his expression softening. “England, right?”

“Blackpool.”

“Nice,” he grins. “Used to go there as a kid.”

“Rory, we aren’t here to chat. We’re here to wait for...” Amy trails off. “What, exactly?”

“It’s a surprise!” a voice behind her enthuses.

Clara turns on her heel then, taking in the sight of the Doctor she had first known - the one who had shown up on her doorstep one day and whisked her away from her normal life. The one she had first fallen in love with. He’s framed in the doorway from outside, leaning against it like some kind of movie star in the kind of films her grandma used to so enjoy watching.

Yet while the Doctor is currently grinning at her with all the attention and interest she came to recognise in his gaze, it’s all the attention and interest he directed towards those they met on their travels. He doesn’t know her yet. Somewhere between that and the recollection of her Doctor’s blank look in this very same diner, it’s too much, and Clara all but runs towards the back room, fighting back tears.

“What is it?” Ashildr asks, lurking in the console room in a way that might’ve been a cause for concern if Clara were more with it. “Clara?”

“Take over,” she manages, and then heads towards her room to fall apart in peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	92. Chapter 92

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor had never been all that good at fulfilling his companions' requests.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From [Alex's](http://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSaddleman/pseuds/TheSaddleman) prompt:
> 
> _When a heatwave hits the UK, Clara finds it impossible to sleep in her flat, so she calls for the TARDIS because she wants to be able to sleep somewhere cool. The Doctor misunderstands her request (takes her to a snow planet? Sets the TARDIS temp at -20?)_

“You know,” Clara said with exasperation, alternating between shivering and stomping her feet up and down. She huffed in irritation and then scowled at the resulting warm cloud her breath made in the frigid air of the usually-warm console room. “This was not exactly what I had in mind when I asked for something cooler.”

“It’s cooler,” the Doctor pointed out in a maddeningly pedantic fashion, jabbing at a nearby conduit with the sonic and then yelping as a shower of sparks skittered across his skin. “That’s for sure. Plus you’re with me. That’s extra cool.”

“Hilarious,” Clara rolled her eyes and wrapped her arms all the more tightly around herself, cursing her - at the time, wise - decision to wear a summer dress. “It’s freezing.”

“It’s just temporary.”

“Is it though?” she asked bitterly, shooting the Doctor a black look. “Because we’ve been stuck in your freezing shithole of a spaceship for twenty minutes, and I’m starting to lose circulation in my hands.”

“Don’t call her names. And don’t exaggerate.”

“I’m not!” she protested, holding out them out to the Doctor to display their purple hue, and unexpectedly bursting into tears as she did so. Between sobs, she managed to stammer: “It’s so cold, and I don’t want to be cold, but I don’t want to be hot either, and-”

The Doctor pulled her into his arms without any prior warning, pressing a kiss to her forehead as he began to... well, Clara wasn’t sure, entirely, but the hug was appreciated. She got an answer a moment later as the warm, reassuring weight of his velvet jacket was draped over her shoulders, and she was held against his chest safely, her core temperature beginning to elevate as she blinked up at him in surprise.

“Better?” he asked, and the usual sarcasm was gone from his tone.

“Much,” Clara acquiesced. “But you’re still gonna have to fix the temperature circuit.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	93. Chapter 93

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the Orient Express, the Doctor has a very important question for Clara.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From allnewtpir's prompt:
> 
> _We know that at the end of "Mummy on the Orient Express" Clara said I Love You to 12 and he seemingly thought it was towards Danny. What if he called her on saying it and she admitted she loved him, but went with Danny because she thought 12 didn't want her?_

“Who were you talking to?” the Doctor asks, as she descends the stairs towards him, her clutch bag held tight in one sweaty palm. “On the phone?”

“Danny,” she says, with a light little laugh and a toss of her hair. Anything to allay suspicion. _Smile, smile, smile, and don’t let him see much you’re really panicking at being asked this question._  “He’s fine with it. The idea of me and you knocking about. It was his idea that we stop but, he's decided he doesn't mind and neither do I.”

“I know you were talking to Danny,” the Doctor rolls his eyes with barely-concealed disdain, although whether it’s aimed at her or Danny she doesn’t fully know. Doesn’t want to, either. “You gave that away when you answered the phone with ‘hey, Danny.’ I don’t mean that. I mean the ‘I love you.’”

Clara flushes red, dropping her gaze to her ludicrously impractical shoes and hoping that her hair - well, wig - is long enough to conceal her cheeks. It doesn’t appear to be. Bollocks. “Doctor, that was to him.”

“Right.”

“He’s my boyfriend.”

“So why were you looking at me when you said it?”

“I wasn’t!” she’s panicking for real now, and she knows he can tell, so she looks up at him anyway and forces herself to scowl. “I was just looking around the room and my eyes happened to stop on you. It doesn’t mean I was talking to you; you’re not the centre of my universe, you know? Your arrogance really does you no favours. Besides, you shouldn’t have been listening.”

“You seem awfully defensive for someone who was telling her boyfriend she loves him.” 

“I’m not being defensive,” she says sulkily, because she is, and she knows it. “You’re just rude.”

“Clara,” he says, in a surprisingly gentle tone, taking a step closer to her. “Who were you talking to? Please don’t try to lie to me.”

“Why does it matter?” she asks, then mentally kicks herself for not having reaffirmed her earlier untruth. “Why are you so interested?”

“I’m always interested in you,” he confesses, moving closer to her again until they’d have been nose to nose if it weren’t for the height difference. “Always.”

Her knees give way then, simply from the sheer proximity of him, but his arm is around her waist before she can tumble to the floor or fall against the console or anything else that might cause her harm. It’s this casual touch which wrong-foots her, which short-circuits her brain and somehow makes her admit: “It was to you,” she breathes, hating herself for the words. “To you, always to you, but you don’t know I exist; you don’t seem to care.”

“What?” his eyes flash with an anger she doesn’t quite understand, and she wants to get away - she tries to, she really does, yet her legs still don’t quite work - but she finds herself trapped there, pinned by his gaze. “What?” he asks again, his voice low and dangerous.

“You don’t want me,” she murmurs, her voice trembling. “I know that.”

He kisses her quite unexpectedly, half-lifting her up to him with the arm still drawn around her waist, and half-bending down to her level. His lips on hers feel hot and dry, and she knows that her lipstick will be transferring itself to his mouth, but she can’t quite find it in herself to care. When he pulls away, they’re both panting, and he’s scowling in a way that makes her fear for her technique until he tells her: “I will always want you. Always. Do you understand me?”

She nods then, breathless, and he mirrors the action more curtly.

“Good,” he says, mouth turning up in a smirk. “So, let’s keep going?”

“Let’s keep going.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	94. Chapter 94

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amy meets her own doppelgänger, and Rory's Christmases all come at once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Amy meets Karen Gillan? Rory can barely control himself._

Amy isn’t particularly looking where she’s going when she bumps into the stranger. Which is nothing new, given that at any given moment she’s either looking at her phone or at Rory or sometimes at Rory _on_ her phone - but not like that, disappointingly enough - but what _is_ new is that the stranger she bumps into is gorgeous. And... her. Or at least, visibly close enough to her that Rory drops her hand and his jaw and probably the last vestiges of his sanity, and gapes at the woman with full-blown adoration. Amy would feel a stab of irritation, if she weren’t doing the same.

“Urm,” Gorgeous Stranger says, and Gorgeous Stranger is Scottish as well. Small world. “Hi. This is weird.”

“You can say that again,” Amy breathes, looking Gorgeous Stranger up and down in a silent appraisal. Excellent legs. Wonderful hair. Not so sure about the slightly bizarre outfit choice, but she’s willing to overlook that, because her doppelgänger is, for lack of a better word, hot. “Amy. Well. Amelia, actually, but...”

“That’s weird!” Gorgeous Stranger says, with an odd little laugh. “Your surname isn’t Pond, is it?” 

“Well, actually...” Amy’s eyes widen. “This is weird. Who are you?”

“A... nasty temporal anomaly,” the Doctor’s voice interjects from behind her, and she turns on her heel to take in the sight of him, having appeared from nowhere and dancing distractedly from foot to foot. “Come along, Ponds.”

Before Amy can say another word, he’s seized them both by the hand and yanked them back along Oxford Street. It’s all Amy can do not to pout in disappointment. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	95. Chapter 95

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor and Clara exchange vows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From [professorsaber's](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Professor_Saber/works) prompt:
> 
> _What Twelve and Clara would say on their wedding day, at the altar?_

Clara is surprised to find that the Doctor is curiously shy, as she stands before him in the white dress her mother had entrusted to her not long before she died. He’s holding her hands, that much is true, and from time to time he gives them a little squeeze, but his eyes are downcast and if she didn’t know him better, she might have thought he was reluctant or afraid. But she knows him - in every sense a human can mean the word, and several ways besides - and so she knows he is only overcome with emotion, and struggling to keep his composure in the face of the small, assembled congregation. It’s not a huge gathering - although it could have been, that’s not their style. Instead it’s just Kate, Osgood, her father, her grandmother, Vastra, Jenny, and Strax. A small group, but one that is nonetheless meaningful. 

“I believe you’d like to exchange a few words,” their officiant says in a warm tone. “So, Doctor?”

“I, ah,” he clears his throat self-consciously and then at last looks up at Clara, meeting her gaze and smiling just a little, just on one side. He’s shy, that much she knows. He’s shy, but he’s drawing strength from her, so she returns the smile and squeezes his hands, and he finally musters the courage to speak. “I’ve loved you for such a long time. Since the first time I ever saw you, I think, because you facilitated my escape from a planet that was never my home. Since I’ve known you and been with you and held you in my arms, I’ve only come to love you more. And so, Clara Oswald, I vow that I will love you forever, even when you do strange human things like sing in the shower or go on Facebook.” 

Clara laughed, her cheeks flushing pink. “Well,” she mused. “I’ve loved you from the moment you knocked on my door dressed as a monk, although you’ve got a little less hyperactive since then. You’ve helped me reach my potential and you make me feel like I’m the only thing in the universe that matters, and I love you for that. So, Doctor, I vow that I will love you forever, even when you do weird Time Lord things like calculate the ratio of my cuteness to my anger, and scan me with the sonic to determine my mood.”

Their officiant grinned. “I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	96. Chapter 96

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Master meets an unfamiliar face. An unfamiliar female face. An unfamiliar female face... with a TARDIS.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Simm's Master meets the 13th Doctor before he becomes Missy but after she stabbed him, he's managed to keep from changing for a bit longer. He meets 13 and she laughs him off after his "is the future going to be all girl" comment and then 13 mocks him to annoy him as it's gonna happen to him._
> 
>  
> 
> My first drabble featuring Thirteen! Welcome to the family, Jodie.

“You know,” a vaguely disembodied voice says, seemingly from nowhere, and he cranes his head around, peering through the smoke as he leans on a broken wall, trying to catch his breath and stem the sluggish flow of blood dripping down his spine. His future self really did know how to pick a wound location. “You really aren’t going to like the future.” 

It’s a woman, that much he can tell from the voice. Of course it’s a woman. Bloody things - they get everywhere these days. He thinks fondly back to the old days, then rearranges his face into a mask of fury, just in case Mystery Bitch can see him.

“Why?” he sneers, in pain but still managing to find a seed of bravado tucked away in his soul; drawing on it as he continues mockingly: “Because it’s all girl?”

“For you, it is. And for me, as well.” 

“What do you mean, for you? Typical idiotic, optimistic Mondasian. You’re trapped down here now. You’ve got no hope of surviving the exodus. Do you think the Cybermen care about your snivelling little assigned gender? Because I don’t.” 

She steps forwards, into a patch of light, and he takes in the dark coat and blonde bob with a look of disdain. “Oh, you’ll find out what I mean soon enough.”

“Will I now?” he rolls his eyes, unimpressed by her aura of mystery. “Because I’m going to become that bitch upstairs, and then she’s going to die. So, chances for discovery seem rather limited.”

“She isn’t going to die,” the woman seems very sure of this, and he wants to laugh at her positivity, but he doesn’t have the energy. “Because she’s in my TARDIS, and it’s fixing her.”

“Hang on,” his stomach drops at the familiar word. “What do you mean, ‘your TARDIS’? Who the hell are you?”

“Oh, well, that’d ruin the surprise,” the woman chuckles, and looks like she might be considering approaching him. He bares his teeth, and she seems to think better of it, offering him a tight smile instead. “Look after yourself, Koschei.”

She turns on a heel and then she’s gone, and he’s left in the darkness, scowling, bleeding, and cursing every damn Time Lady he can recall the name of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	97. Chapter 97

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor tries to work out how to fly... well, _this._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Maybe the 13th Doctor gets a new sonic screwdriver (orange light on it, love that idea especially for Jodie's Doctor) and tries it out._

“Ooh,” she says excitedly, rocking forward onto her toes and reaching for the new screwdriver that’s just appeared from a socket on the console, still warm from the artron energy of the TARDIS. She flicks the switch on the side, relieved to find that a warm orange glow emits from one end alongside a familiar buzzing, and she closes her eyes and lets that sound consume her for half a moment. That sound; brand new, and ancient. That sound is one of the few things that has linked her past self together, body to body, and it reassures her now in this strange, alien... _container_ that she still doesn’t know quite how to fly.

She remembers her last regeneration, dimly. Remembers looking into Clara’s face and asking her if she “knew how to fly this thing.” She’d only half meant the TARDIS, back then, and now she doesn’t need directions for the ship at all - she needs to know how to fly a body that has more hair and more chest and slightly less size than she’s used to, not to mention a voice that is no longer angry and Scottish. She’s still getting used to that - to the notion that she no longer has the kind of face that makes strangers afraid. That she no longer has the kind of face that people will look to in a crisis. Not on the majority of Earth, anyway.

 _Stupid Earth,_ she thinks to herself crossly. _Stupid patriarchy. I guess I’d best_ make _them listen, then, hadn’t I?_

She sighs again, flicking the sonic off and running a hand over the TARDIS console. The ship beeps and burbles to her in the same way it always has, and that constant is welcome. Without her bidding it to do so, the central column begins to rise and fall, and she takes a deep breath, reassured by the noise that has proven to be one thing she can rely on, no matter the face and body she happened to be wearing.

“Well,” she says under her breath, catching sight of her reflection in a particularly well-polished section of the console unit and making a face at herself. “The future is all-girl, it seems. So here we go again. Same software. Different face.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	98. Chapter 98

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The TARDIS plays a practical joke on Clara.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From [Alex's](http://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSaddleman/pseuds/TheSaddleman) prompt:
> 
> _Since TARDIS keys can dematerialise and relocate themselves, what do you think about a drabble where Clara finds herself the victim of yet another TARDIS practical joke?_

“OK,” Clara muttered under her breath, jogging back towards the TARDIS in search of the Doctor’s bombastically annoying box of tricks. “I need to move that box. I need to _confiscate_ that box. But after today. Definitely after today, because god knows, I knew there was a reason we were keeping it.”

She leant against the TARDIS door in an overly-familiar way, as she was wont to do in moments such as these, and reached under her jumper for the key that she kept close to her heart on a silver chain and cherished more than life itself. It usually hung just above her sternum, a warm, familiar weight that reminded her of the Doctor. _Usually_.

Because it wasn’t there.

“For god sake,” she muttered, annoyed. “I know I put it on this morning.”

She yanked the chain out from underneath her jumper, the evidential proof that she had indeed picked up the key that morning. Well. Picked up the _chain,_ at least, because the key was nowhere to be seen. She felt a momentary rush of panic that perhaps she had mislaid the key itself, before she realised that if that was the case the chain would be absent, and thus scowling up at the blue box darkly. 

“This isn’t funny,” she snapped. “Now really isn’t the time. We don’t have long to help Rigsy, and-”

There was an odd, apologetic presence in her head, but then the door clicked open, and she smiled cheekily.

“ _Thank_ you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	99. Chapter 99

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Twelfth meets the Thirteenth. Questions ensue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _12 meets 13 and doesn't know who she is, when he eventually realises who she is then he starts to ask questions. She of course doesn't answer him. She'll tell him to guard the vault and then he asks her is it worth it again she'll be the Doctor and won't answer..._

“I know who you are,” he confessed to her, some considerable time after she commenced lying to him in a desperate bid to avoid just this situation happening. Of course he’d known. Of course he could tell. She’d underestimated him, as companions and foes alike were wont to do, and now she found herself blinking at him in stupefied, mute embarrassment, fighting the urge to blush. That was new. She’d never much been one for blushing before - not when she was him, anyway. The one with the bow-tie was another matter entirely. “You shouldn’t have tried to lie.”

They were sat on a park bench together, both of them pointedly looking dead ahead to avoid the kind of awkward eye contact that comes with conversations holding such gravitas. “Sorry,” she mumbled, looking down at her clasped, unfamiliar hands, and dimly noting that her nails needed cleaning. She’d never worried about that before; never had to. “I just... spoilers.”

He chuckled at the familiar phrase, as she knew he would. “You know, River’s going to be thrilled.”

“I can’t...”

“Oh, I’m sure you can do something clever,” there was the barest hint of pride in his voice; pride at the notion that his future self would have the ability and the means to do what he could not. Pride, yes, and a hint of sadness. “Send her my love.”

“I will,” she promised numbly, because now it was on her to do something to pass that message along, and they both knew she couldn’t - and shouldn’t - do that. They also both knew that she absolutely would. “When is this? For you?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he shrugged, waving one hand dismissively. “I lose count.”  
  
“Clara?” she enquired tentatively, because she needed to know, and not just for spatio-temporal reasons.

“Is at school, why?”

She shook her head, the tiniest motion, then realised he wasn’t looking at her. “Don't want to shock her,” she lied, mouth dry. “That’s all.”

“I’d ask you when this is for you, but you’ll only lie,” he looked at her then with a sly smile, his eyes full of an unspoken fear for the future. “Is it bad? The change?”

She frowned a little, worrying her lip as she mulled over the question, wondering what his definition of the term ‘bad’ would be. “Not overly. It’s mostly the discombobulation you’ve got to watch out for. Sudden boobs. That kind of thing.”

“Learning how to fly this thing,” he teased, and she smiled by way of response, remembering the phrase the first time around. “Can you tell me anything else?”

“No,” she sighed, feeling a pang of regret that she couldn’t warn him of the pain to come. “I’m sorry, but you know I can’t. Just... be you. Just enjoy being you.”

“I intend to.”

“Good,” her shoulders slumped guiltily, and she mumbled: “Remember the ones you love, and move mountains for them.” 

“I will.”

She nodded curtly, getting to her feet before the remembered grief of her past incarnation could catch up for her and render her immobile and wordless. “Not that you’ll remember me saying that, but never mind.”

“Are you leaving already?”

“Let’s not mess with the timelines any more than necessary,” she offered him a tight smile, then shook him by the hand in an oddly formal way. This body wasn’t adverse to touch, but she remembered how much he loathed hugs. Well. Hugs, except for those from- 

No, she wouldn’t think about Clara. She couldn’t.

“See you around,” she forced herself to say, with a half-upturned smirk that her facial muscles dimly recalled learning from him. “Doctor.”

“Doctor,” he nodded in acknowledgement and she stepped away, heading back to the TARDIS with her head down. She could already feel her memories of the encounter fading, and as she stepped into the console room her dour mood lifted and she beamed at the time rotor. 

“Now,” she hummed to herself. “Where to next?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	100. Chapter 100

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the wake of Clara's extraction, the Doctor decides to hell with it. Never mind memory blocks; it's all about running.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From allnewtpir's prompt:
> 
> _12 never even thinks about the memory block. After saving the universe untold times over, and being fucked over by it just as much, plus 4.5 billion years of torture, he's had enough. He tells the Time Lords off (using language Malcolm Tucker would use), takes Clara and runs. They know the raven is inevitable, but at the moment they don't care._

The Doctor doesn’t bother looking back as he drags Clara from the extraction chamber, her hand small and reassuringly warm in his as she stumbles along in his wake. Why would he look back at what are, hopefully, the last sorry examples of his people he will ever encounter? He has no future with them, and no reason to be sentimental. Clara is all that matters now; Clara is his reason to carry on. He knows that for now she’s too surprised to do anything but run - always their default setting, and she’s fallen into step beside him just like old times - but he also knows than soon enough her mind will finish ticking over and she will start asking the kind of questions that he really, really doesn’t want to answer, because they will involve facing up to everything he’s done to get to this point, and he isn’t particularly proud of that.

“Hey,” she says after a long period of silent sprinting down long, immaculately white corridors that make his eyes ache and stir up an uncomfortable host of long-buried memories. “Doctor, why are we running? What... what about the raven? What about-”

“I don’t give a damn about any ravens!” he all but shouts, skidding to a halt and turning to face her. He places his hands on her shoulders and keeps talking -loudly, too loudly; he can see her flinching in response to the unaccustomed volume - in a bid to make her understand. “I don’t give a damn about anything other than keeping you safe.”

“But the hybrid...”

“The hybrid can go to hell!” 

“Doctor,” she blinks at him, her eyes full of tears, and he realises he’s shaking her lightly with each word. “You’re scaring me.”

“I’m sorry,” he says at once, letting go of her and stepping back. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to... I just... Clara, you don’t understand, I can’t lose you.”

“But given a choice between losing me and losing your people, surely-”

“They’re not my people any longer,” he growls. “They never really were. They’re pompous, arrogant twits who can’t stand to see what they perceive as weakness and the rest of the universe sees as an emotion.”

“I don’t understand.”

“No, you might see it differently,” his mouth quirks up. “You might see it as a promise. It’s love, Clara, it’s what they can’t stand, and I have no future with a race who can’t see that love is the enduring force of the universe - not knowledge, or power, or military might. Love.”

“I really don’t understand.”  
  
“Clara, I love you, and much as I would very much like to elaborate on that in a vaguely Shakespearean manner, I also think it’s fairly important we run.”

“So, let’s run,” Clara grins, grabbing his hand in a way that’s so achingly familiar he feels his hearts lurch. “And for the record...”

“Yes?”

“I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	101. Chapter 101

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara finds herself reliving her childhood in a somewhat unlikely manner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Doctor Who crossover with Sonic the Hedgehog?_

Clara wasn’t entirely sure where she was. She’d been with the Doctor, exploring Delta Labs, then they’d got separated, and something had...

Oh, right. Something had hit her, and she’d blacked out. Pretty standard stuff, really, only now she was... well, in what appeared for all intents and purposes to be a kind of... forest-type thing. There were trees, anyway. Trees, and ramps, and... hang on, were those _floating gold rings?_ Were those _spikes?_

“What’s going on?” she tried to ask, only to find her mouth didn’t work and all that emerged was a muffled noise. “Why-”

Before she could process any more of her surroundings, she took a step forward against her will, then another, then another, moving faster with each one, until she was running unnaturally fast along a rough kind of path towards the first of the gold rings. She braced herself for an impact that never came, because as her torso connected with it, there was a loud “ding!” noise that seemed vaguely familiar, and the ring disappeared. She looked ahead at a whole row of them, and that’s when she realised why she recognised the set-up.

It was _Sonic the Hedgehog_. She was in a _Sonic the Hedgehog_ game. She’d have laughed, if she’d had the means.

Any thoughts of humour were put aside as she noticed that there was a spike filled-gap coming up. One that definitely seemed too wide for her short legs to traverse.

 _Doctor,_ she thought to herself. _When I emerge from this with a pin-cushioned arse, I am going to_ kill _you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	102. Chapter 102

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amy Pond meets Amelia Pond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Amy meets a little girl who waited for the Doctor and who has lost hope..._

The request had been simple enough, Amy thought. A Spice Girls concert, back in the 1990s, so that she could relive her childhood and enjoy some decent pop music.

Or at least, it had been simple enough until the Doctor had picked the _one_ concert that Amy herself at attended, at the age of eight, and so he had immediately legged it into the pre-concert crowd, determined to avert a “Pond anomaly.” 

Amy rolled her eyes and plonked down in a seat, looking around at the assembled concertgoers with interest. Ah, the nineties. She was both relieved and disappointed they were over.

“Hello,” a horribly familiar voice next to her said, and Amy turned to her left with horror, taking in the sight of her younger self, decked head-to-toe in merchandise and grinning from ear to ear. “Your hair’s ginger like mine.”

“Yes, it is,” Amy smiled, deciding to feign ignorance. “You’re Scottish like me.”

“Yeah,” young Amelia grinned. “Being Scottish is the best.”

“That is is, kiddo. Where’s your au- appropriate adult?”

“She went to the loo, but she’s been gone ages. I’m starting to think she’s left me here. I don’t know what it is, but something about me makes adults leave and not come back.”

“Don’t say that,” Amy said, frowning. “Why would you say that?”

“My Raggedy Doctor left me and never came back. Aunt Sharon says I made him up, but I know I didn’t.” 

“Who’s he?” Amy asked, trying to play dumb.

“He landed in my garden and saved the world, then flew away in his spaceship. He said he’d be right back, but he’s still not turned up. I’m starting to think he never will.”

“Don’t give up hope, kid,” Amy smiled kindly at her younger self. “Honestly, you’ll see him again.”

“You seem very sure of that.”

“Well...” Amy spotted the Doctor in the distance, and realised she needed to grab him, lest a crisis occur with little Amelia’s timeline. “I will be right back. You enjoy the Spice Girls.”

“I will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	103. Chapter 103

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Wonderland.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Bill doesn't know where she is, it's a weird place, then she meets Nardole and the Doctor but while her lecturer plays his guitar he insists he isn't "the Doctor" but he's a Mad Hatter. Then Bill realises she's Alice and this is Wonderland. Bonus points for Missy as Queen of Hearts and the other companions as Mad Hatter's tea party guests._

As she awoke, Bill realised quite abruptly that she was not where she was when she fell asleep. She’d been in the staff room at the Students’ Union, that much she knew, but this was definitely not the Students’ Union; not unless they’d employed a crack team of interior designers to overhaul the place in the last... well, she wasn’t sure how long she’d been asleep, but she knew it wasn’t very long, and thus she doubted the notion very much. 

There was also the small matter of the fact that the Students’ Union didn’t generally contain a table that stretched to infinity, patterned with a truly hideous tablecloth, covered in mismatched china, or-

She grinned from ear to ear as she recognised the bizarrely dressed - more so than usual, at any rate - figure sprawled in the chair opposite her. The Doctor was smirking to himself and strumming his guitar, which appeared to have been somewhat pimped out since she’d last seen it, and she couldn’t decide whether that was an improvement or not. The glitter seemed over the top and somewhat impractical, but it did make for a striking aesthetic.

“Doctor,” she said warmly, leaning forward in her seat and noticing for the first time that she was wearing an oddly stiff blue frock, combined with a frilled white apron. The get-up seemed oddly familiar, although she couldn’t quite work out why. “What the-”

“I’m not the Doctor,” the Doctor - or Not-Doctor, whatever - drawled, and if she didn’t know better she’d have accused him of being high. No one talked like that unless they’d consumed at least one mind-altering substance. “Who is this Doctor? Doctors are the hindrance of creativity. They want to put you in _boxes.”_

“Very funny.”

“Oh, my dear, I know I am,” he beamed at her a touch manically, waggling his eyebrows with each word he spoke. “I’m a hoot, a laugh, a whimsical figure of comedy. I’m a giggle, a laugh, an entertaining star on the rise.”

“Right.”

“You sound insultingly unsure,” he strummed his guitar again in a brooding fashion, and a string snapped with an uncomfortable twanging sound. The Not-Doctor didn’t seem to notice. “I may be mad, my dear, but I know my own talents.”

“You aren’t mad.”

“I am!” he sounded affronted. “I’m the Mad Hatter, it’s in my name. One does not attach adjectives to one’s name without absolute certainty that the adjectives in questions are entirely apt.”

“Hang on,” Bill’s eyes widened as she realised where she was. “If you’re the Mad Hatter and I’m in this stupid frock, then is this Wonderland? Because, like, it’s kinda trippy, and that’s coming from someone who’s seen both Disney versions of the movie.”

“This is indeed Wonderland, and it is indeed, as you so wisely point out, trippy. Aren’t the colours simply sublime?”

Bill snorted, amused at the prospect of having apparently entered a fictional world as she slept. “Right. So, where’s the Queen of Hearts, then?”

“Do not speak her name!” the Not-Doctor looked abruptly terrified. “For whence thou speakst it-”

“Hello, dearie,” a far-off Scottish voice trilled. “Off with your heads!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	104. Chapter 104

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor returns to Coal Hill to break the news of Clara's passing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Twelve has to go back to Coal Hill to tell everyone that Clara died. It causes him to break down and he becomes the one to either unveil her name on the board (seen in Class)/put her name there._

He doesn’t want to do it. He doesn’t want to have to step over the threshold of the familiar red-brick building and tell them that Clara’s dead, because that makes it real; that makes it _true_. And making it true is something he doesn’t want to have to face up to, because then there’s no escaping the fact that she’s gone, and she isn’t coming back.

 _Dead,_ a pedantic part of his brain helpfully supplies. _She’s dead._

He flinches from the term but steps inside in an attempt to combat the nagging little voice in his head, stalking through the corridors with his fists clenched and his jaw set, lest his body and mind conspire against him and cause him to lose composure in the school she had loved so much, among the students she had so adored. He doesn’t have the heart to call them ‘pudding brains.’ Not today. Not today, when he has to tell them that... well, tell them that their English teacher - their _beloved_ English teacher - won’t be coming back.

He knocks on the headmaster’s door before he can lose face and flee, taking a deep breath that his body doesn’t strictly speaking need, but which nonetheless calms him down a modicum. 

“Come in!”

He enters the small, neatly-kept room and smiles wanly at the kind-looking, middle-aged man sat behind a desk. 

“Mr Smith,” Mr Armitage looks pleased, if a touch perplexed, to be confronted with the former caretaker, and the Doctor loathes himself for the fact he’s about to cause the man’s smile to falter. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“It’s ah,” he pauses, clearing his throat a little and willing himself not to cry. “It’s about Clara.”

“What about her?” Armitage narrows his eyes, visibly confused. “And how on earth... I wasn’t aware the two of you know each other.”

He bites back a bitter laugh at that. _Know each other._ That’s one way of putting it.

“We do,” he can’t bring himself to say _did._ “There was an accident,” he manages. “There was an accident, and she passed away. Yesterday. That’s why she’s not... that’s why she isn’t here.”

Armitage’s face falls, then crumples. “No.”

“I’m sorry,” he says uselessly, his nails digging into his palms as he forbids his body from crying. “I was there but there was nothing I could do, it happened too fast... I... she just...”

“Jesus,” Armitage puts his head in his hands, and the Doctor pretends not to see the tears he wipes away surreptitiously. “Jesus, not after Danny, not after... those poor kids.”

 _Poor me,_ the Doctor thinks to himself, somewhat egotistically. That had always been Clara’s job before - the ego, and the looks, and the smiles - but now he doesn’t care. Now he has to somehow fulfil both roles.

“You’ll remember her?” the Doctor asks, his voice pleading. “On the board? Please?”

“Of course,” Armitage nods numbly. “Of course, and an assembly, and... oh, god, her students... they’re going to be devastated.”

“I’m sorry,” the Doctor says again, unable to formulate anything more articulate. “I’m so sorry.”

He turns on his heel and flees before Armitage can say another word, the guilt choking him as he heads towards the solace of the TARDIS, slamming the doors shut behind him and finally allowing himself to break down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	105. Chapter 105

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Right number. Wrong time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From yourcatinthestar's prompt:
> 
> _Clara from the past calls the Doctor who has already forgotten her._

Clara looked down at her phone with a scowl, wondering what was taking the Doctor so long. He was usually pretty terrible at answering her calls, so that was nothing new, but he wasn’t usually _this_ terrible. She sighed, flicking on the kettle and resigning herself to a long wait, and it was then that the line connected with a click and her heart soared.

“Hey!” she said brightly, grabbing a mug from a nearby cupboard and setting her phone down on the counter, switching it to speaker mode so that she could multitask more effectively. “How’s things?”

“Who is this?” he asked, and she could hear the uncertainty in his tone. “Why are you calling me? How did you get this number?”

“Doctor?” she frowned, feeling distinctly unimpressed. “It’s me, it’s Clara. I know it’s not Wednesday, but-”

“Clara?” there was a pause. “Clara who?”

“Hilarious,” she rolled her eyes, dropping a teabag into her mug. “Clara Oswald. Five foot two control freak. Ringing any bells?”

“I don’t know any Claras,” he snapped, hanging up before she could say another word, and she blinked down at her phone in bemusement.

“Weird man,” she muttered, shrugging and reaching for the biscuit barrel. “Oh well. Waiting until Wednesday it is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	106. Chapter 106

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor speaks sign language. Or rather, he thinks he does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _After the events of Under The Lake/Before The Flood, Clara forces the Doctor to learn sign language, unfortunately over 100 years later when the Doctor tries it with a few of his students including Bill it goes wrong._

The Doctor beamed at the assembled students cheerfully, hands working away nineteen to the dozen as he spoke. He wasn’t entirely sure why he knew sign language, but he did, and he was determined to get some use out of his mysteriously acquired knowledge before his brain could delete it and replace it with semaphore or anything equally useless.

There was a muted gasp from Anita, the one deaf student in his seminar.

“Urm,” Bill said uncertainly, looking from Anita to the Doctor and then back again. “I think you might’ve...”

“What?” he frowned, watching as Anita turned away and reeled something off in sign language to Bill. “Also, why do you speak sign?” 

“Too much free time,” Bill offered by way of an explanation, not looking at him as she signed back to Anita. “She says you said... well.”

“What?”

“You signed ‘the stars themselves are made up of penile substances,’ rather than ‘gaseous substances,’” Bill suppressed a snort. “I mean... are they?”

“Shut up,” he muttered, turning a spectacular shade of red. “I’m sorry,” he told Anita, signing as he spoke. “It won’t happen again.”

Anita giggled, looking to Bill and reeling something off. 

“Urm, that wasn’t ‘I’m sorry,’” Bill smirked. “That was ‘I’m an idiot,’ but close enough. I thought you said you were fluent?”

“Shut up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	107. Chapter 107

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _It's all just atoms. You can rearrange them any way you like._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From allnewtpir's prompt:
> 
> _Bill and Heather visit a certain diner after leaving the TARDIS, and rearrange enough atoms to get the chronolock off of Clara, putting her next to 12 as he wakes up._

Waking up is painful, to say the least. He’s momentarily unsure where he is, because this isn’t the solar-farm-cum-battlefield where he passed out, but then his senses kick in and he realises he’s back in the relative safety of the TARDIS, lying on the metal flooring of the console room. Which is... uncomfortable, actually, but he can’t really object because he isn’t dead or in any other sort of pain, so a little back ache can be tolerated.

He sits up with a gasp, gulping in lungfuls of air his regenerating body doesn’t really need, and it’s then that he feels someone grab his hands and cries out, yanking away reflexively lest he burn them.

“Hey,” a warmly familiar voice says, and he focuses enough to take in the wide hazel eyes and soft smile of someone he realises, abruptly, that he remembers. “It’s alright. You’re not... you’re not _there_ yet, you won’t hurt me.” 

“Clara,” he says with reverence, reaching out and cupping her cheek in his palm, feeling the warmth of her skin and noticing the way she blushes at his touch and realising that these things - these small miracles - should be impossible. His mind stumbles over itself, unable to form a coherent thought, and quite unbidden his mouth ploughs ahead and asks: “How are you here? How do I recognise you? And how are you... how are you _blushing_? Your heart shouldn’t be beating. I mean. No offence, but it shouldn’t; not with the chronolock and-”

“Doctor,” she murmurs softly, then chuckles, ruffling his hair in a way he should really find horrifying but is actually rather cute. “Always so many questions, so let’s work through these logically. I’m guessing the regeneration burned away the neural block, which is why this face seems familiar.”

“That... would make sense.”

“Yes, it would,” she grins. “And I’m here because your companion and her girlfriend found me.”

“Girlfriend?”

“Heather? The pilot? She ah... she did some _rearranging._ ”

“Of?”

“My atoms,” Clara shrugs, gesturing to the back of her neck casually. “No chronolock. No time loop. No quantum shade.” 

“So you’re... alive, again?”  
  
“So it would seem,” she smiles sadly, and he realises why. “Too late for you, though.”

“Stay with me,” he pleads. “Please. Stay with me, and stay with the next.”

“Always,” she promises, and she kisses him then, slow and sweet and sad. “Always, my Doctor.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	108. Chapter 108

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara Oswald is not the world's most patient driver.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Clara Oswald is a terrible driver._

Clara swore under her breath as she scowled at the driver in front of her, drumming her fingers on the wheel impatiently. They’d been driving slowly - admittedly not all that slowly, but she was in a hurry - ever since the last junction, and she was already late for a staff meeting. 

“For god’s sake,” she muttered under her breath, eyeing the road ahead with anticipation and calculating the risks; she knew it would be dangerous to try and overtake, but she needed to nonetheless. “Come on, just a little further...”

The car in front of her stalled, and she swore more loudly as the driver attempted to restart the engine. Sure, she remembered learning to drive. Sure, it was embarrassing and difficult. But still, she _needed_ to be at work.

“Sod it,” she mumbled, pulling out and overtaking the driver, flipping them off as she did so, and it was then that she realised with a mounting sense of horror that it was Ram Singh from her English class. “Shit.”

To his credit, he looked amused by the development, but Clara didn’t hang around long enough to see whether that reaction was ongoing, because, well, staff meeting.

By the time she’d arrived at school, been bored almost to tears by Armitage, and then struggled to her first class, she was unsurprised to find that Ram had also made it to school. More specifically, to outside her classroom, where he was leaning against a wall and smirking. “Nice driving, miss.”

“Says the boy who stalled in the middle of the main road?”

“I only stalled cos I was so distracted by you being pretty in the car behind.”

“You know your problem, Mr Singh? You’re too damn smooth.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	109. Chapter 109

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mexican food, Missy, and flirting. Just how the Doctor likes his evenings to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt: 
> 
> _The Doctor's visit to Missy in the vault after Knock Knock, when he brought Mexican food._

When he stepped into the vault, Missy was sat precisely where she usually was: at the piano, with her face artfully arranged into the kind of smirk he knew for a fact she’d spent decades perfecting. 

“Mexican?” she asked, arching an eyebrow in a look that could either connote chastisement or praise, but in that instant he wasn’t sure which. There was a brief pause in which he nodded dumbly, and then she smiled and he felt himself relax, pleased to have pleased her. “Good boy.”

He returned the smile briefly, dropping into his usual chair and placing the assorted boxes, napkins, and utensils on the table beside him. Missy stepped out of the containment field and plonked down beside him, pawing through boxes until she located the fajitas he’d ordered specifically for her, and started eating one at a truly alarming rate.

“You know,” he observed, trying not to look too horrified. “You look very much like _him_ when you do that.”

“Him?”

“The last you. The corrupted-you.”

“The x-ray jumping bean with the insatiable appetite, you mean?”

“That’s the one,” he chuckled at the image. “That was-”

“I still have an insatiable appetite,” she drawled, looking from his face to his crotch and then back again. “Just for other things.”

He made a kind of strangled squeaking noise, feeling himself turn red. “I ah,” he stammered, trying to remember how his mouth worked. “I don’t think that’d be a good idea tonight.”

“Why?” Missy widened her eyes. “Not... _up_ to it?”

“Chilli. Sensitive parts.” 

“Ah,” she smirked. “Well, that could be half the fun...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	110. Chapter 110

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor. Such a grandiose name, yet also such a grandiose role.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _The Doctor isn't a Time Lord but rather a superhero whose mantel is passed down to different people, always random and different. There was one who went too far called the War Doctor, but he isn't seen as a hero. The first villain to fight Twelve is shocked he's old this time but he doesn't take any crap. And Thirteen being a woman would probably surprise a few others too..._

**GQ:** So, Doctor. How does it feel to be nearing your retirement after decades of working tirelessly to keep us all safe? 

 **D:** It’s weird, actually. I’m not overly sure how I feel about it. Sad, yeah, but also... maybe relieved? They knew I was an unusual choice, but the Prydostone chooses who it chooses, and obviously... that was me. Knackered old knees, grey hair, lined skin, Scottish accent and all. 

 **GQ:** You’re much younger than Eleven was when he retired. Is there any reason for that?

 **D:** Eleven was... different. He let the job consume him, and by the time he retired he had very little time left to just be normal; he’d been the Doctor for so long that he didn’t have any kind of life outside of being a hero. I mean, obviously, he had his secret identity life, but he wasn’t really one for pretending to be anything less than super at all times, so he didn’t have anyone to be with, or anything to throw himself into. Died of loneliness and boredom, I reckon. I didn’t want to end up the same way.

 **GQ:** So your sidekick, the Teacher, wouldn’t have anything to do with your choice?

 **D:** She might. [he grins, widely, and his mask almost slips. _Almost._ ] Or she might not. I feel like my time has come, and I feel like I want to be able to enjoy time with her outside of hero work before things get too much and my old knees give way. Also... [he winks] she’d be deeply offended at being called a sidekick. So offended that I’m surprised she hasn’t already flown in here and kicked your arse.

 **GQ:** Apologies. Partner?

 **D:** Partner, yes. My tiny, bossy partner. 

 **GQ:** You know, you’re quite the contrast with your American counterpart-

 **D:** Captain America? Please. Like I could match up to that! God, please don’t continue with this comparison, the wee shit’s half my age and much more athletic. Not to mention he looks much better in Spandex than I do.

 **GQ:** It’s just... he has more of a team around him...

 **D:** Ach, I know, but I like it best when it’s just the Teacher and I. Maybe Thirteen will be different, but I like working in a twosome.

 **GQ:** Ah, yes, Thirteen. There’s been some backlash about her gender-

 **D:** The Prydostone chooses who it chooses. And in this case, it’s her. [he shrugs] What more can I say?

 **GQ:** Do you have any advice for her, stepping into the role?

 **D:** Yeah, enjoy yourself, because the time passes too damn fast! Now, if that’s all... I’m needed elsewhere.

 **GQ:** Thank you for- [he leaves, before we can finish our sentence. Damn, will he be missed.]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	111. Chapter 111

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara, alcohol, and something that's been bugging her for months. What could possibly go wrong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From [Alex's](http://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSaddleman/pseuds/TheSaddleman) prompt:
> 
> _Clara going spare because everyone (UNIT generals, villains, Courtney) insists on calling her the Doctor's sidekick. Possible venue for this: pub night with Kate and the Osgoods, Clara ranting on after a few drinks._

“You know another thing that bothers me?” Clara asked, narrowing her eyes in a vaguely confrontational manner and jabbing her finger towards Kate’s chest. Well, it might be Kate’s chest. She really hoped it was, but the room was going round and round, so honestly, anyone’s guess was as good as hers. 

“No,” someone in the vicinity muttered, and she shot round to glare at the assembled team. Or at least, she tried to, but she overestimated the momentum with which she needed to pivot, and ended up sat on her arse on the floor, pouting and nursing her wounded pride. “Fuck sake.”

There was a muted, stifled round of giggling before Kate hauled her to her feet with a kind smile. “What?” the older woman asked, and Clara beamed at the opportunity to share - more of - her thoughts. “Do share.”

“Everybody thinks I’m his sidekick!” Clara’s scowl intensified. “Everybody thinks I just follow that man around like a little puppy and I’m his sidekick! M’not a sidekick! I’m a partner in crime! No, not crime, we don’t do crime, he’s too boring. M’a partner in justice, although damn that sounds shitty. Partner in awesome? That’s a bit better. Better’n Missy calling me a puppy. She can piss off.”

“I mean, we don’t see you as a sidekick,” Kate assured her. “Not a bit. Would you like some more wine?”

“No,” Osgood interjected firmly, putting a hand over Clara’s glass. “Really, don’t give her any more wine.”

“Why not?” Clara demanded to know, puffing herself up to her - admittedly not considerable - full height. “Want more wine.”

“Christmas party,” Osgood said flatly, and Clara’s face fell. “Yeah, thought that might bring back some memories. How’s that laser tattoo removal going, anyway?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	112. Chapter 112

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor and Clara encounter an unwelcome familiar face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From allnewtpir's prompt:
> 
> _Clara is with 12 when One arrives. One is equal parts surprised to see the woman who told him which TARDIS to steal, and stunned to find out he's gonna fall for her._
> 
> This can be seen as direct continuation of [this.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10845912/chapters/26073006)

“Who are you?” a crotchety voice called through the whirling snowstorm that was already making Clara shiver, and the Doctor suppressed the urge to groan. Not now. Please, not now. He had a duty of care, and that didn’t involve consorting with strangers when he was about to... well, _that._  He could barely think the word. 

Torn between his obligation to Clara and his obligation to answer the question, he hesitated for a moment then shrugged off his jacket, draping it around her shoulders protectively and earning himself a grateful smile in return. He recognised the speaker, and had no such desire to engage with him; none whatsoever, but needs must.

“Identify yourself!” the Not-Stranger barked, and he sighed wearily. 

“I’m the Doctor,” he told the whited-out scene in front of him, keeping one arm protectively around Clara’s waist as he spoke. “And...”

His former self - his very _first_ self - stepped forward, out of the haze and into their fields of vision. “‘The Doctor,’” he tutted dismissively, visibly incredulous at the very notion. “Oh, I don't think so. No, dear me, no. You may be _a_ doctor, but I am _the_ Doctor. The original, you might say.”

“Really?” he asked, feeling his temper flare. He was about to regenerate - about to change everything he was, about to lose everything Clara had loved about him, and about to say goodbye to everything he had so loved being - and now he had to contend with this. His past self, being as facetious as ever. “Do we actually have to do this?”

“We do,” the elderly man huffed indignantly, grasping his lapels with an air of pomposity. “We...” his eyes fell upon Clara, and he ceased talking at once. “ _You_.”

“Me?” she asked tentatively, edging closer to his side as she spoke. She was wide-eyed and wary, and he couldn’t say he blamed her. “What about me?” 

“You’re the one who...” his past self looked flustered, and it took all his self-restraint not to smirk. “You told me which TARDIS to steal. You’re the girl in red.”

“Oh,” Clara understood at once, of course, because she was Clara and that was what she did. “You’re welcome, I suppose.”

“Why are you stood with your arm around her?” his past self barked. “She’s not going to drift off if you let go. Such maudlin sentimentality.”

“She’s my...” he paused, trying to find the right word and feeling the weight of Clara’s expectations settle over him. “Partner.”

“Your _what_?” the older him narrowed his eyes in confusion. “Partner in what?”

“Everything.”

“You mean to say a romantic partner?”

“Yes.”

“Well,” the elderly man seemed flummoxed. “Isn’t this quite the turn up for the books?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	113. Chapter 113

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Twelve ruminates on losing Bill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _The Doctor lives in a post-apocalyptic world, little human life remains, he's older and has used almost all his regeneration energy to heal himself so that's not an option anymore. He sometimes thinks about his past and remembers how he failed Bill that awful day... (AU on World Enough and Time/The Doctor Falls)_

He knows he let Bill down. It’s all he can think about these days; all he can bring himself to ruminate on as he sits, slumped, in the faded old armchair in what was once the console room of his mighty ship. The TARDIS hasn’t worked for centuries, and he hasn’t worked for centuries longer. He’s patched himself up wherever and however he can, using bits of pieces of his regeneration energy to restart major organs and fill in gouges made in his skin, but by and large he’s grown old otherwise untouched; grizzled and battle-scarred and world-weary.

All he can think of is Bill. How badly he failed her, and the tiny sliver of time by which he did so. He made her a promise - as he made all his companions a promise - to keep her safe, and he’d let her down in that respect. He should’ve been faster. He shouldn’t have lingered with Missy and Nardole for so long. He should’ve made getting to her his absolute priority. 

Now she was... well, he didn’t know. Dead, most likely; killed in the explosion that had destroyed so many of her Cyber-brethren. She’d been so young, and so naively full of hope and trust and optimism, and now that light had been extinguished. She was gone, alongside his vivaciousness for life and his desire to go on, thus he would grow old and die here, as penance for what he had done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	114. Chapter 114

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara Oswald can and will tolerate many things. Being poked in the forehead is not one of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From [Alex's](http://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSaddleman/pseuds/TheSaddleman) prompt:
> 
> _Clara doesn't like getting poked in the forehead. She REALLY doesn't like getting poked in the forehead. Eleven got away with it because he'd been taken over by Mr. Clever at the time. Twelve knows better. But Missy never got the memo. Poor Missy._
> 
> Inspired by [this gifset.](http://copyofclara.tumblr.com/post/163457277966)

Clara wasn’t entirely sure why Missy was leaning against the bar in her favourite pub, but she was very much hoped that there were too many humans present for the Time Lady to consider making a scene. Although, then again, this _was_ Missy, so there was no guarantee of anything unfolding in a logical, life-preserving, or prayed-for manner. 

“Hello, dearie,” the Scotswoman trilled, taking a long sip of a luridly coloured drink via a straw that Clara strongly suspected was intended to preserve her lipstick. “Did you miss me?”

“Not really,” Clara deadpanned, frowning slightly as Missy sashayed over to her haphazardly. “Are you... are you _drunk_?”

“Don’t be silly!” Missy giggled. “Of course I’m not drunk. Not any more so than... wait, yes, alright, you’ve got me. I _might_ be. Only a little tiny bit. It can be our special girly secret from the boring old stick insect with killer eyebrows.” 

“Why are you...”

Missy was blinking at Clara in what could almost be construed as a fond manner, which was alarming in itself. “You’re very cute,” she murmured, reaching over and patting Clara on the head in a manner that was irritating for so, so many reasons. “Such a cute little puppy.”

“Please don’t do that.”

“So tiny,” Missy beamed, poking Clara in the middle of the forehead. “Such a tiny little-” she poked her again. “Human.”

“I would suggest you stop doing that, or I will have to hurt you.”

“You know, I can see why he likes you,” Missy sighed happily. “You’re-” her fingertip connected with Clara’s forehead again, and before she could think better of it, Clara had twisted her arm behind her back in a restraining hold she’d learnt at the age of 18, snarling slightly as she did so. Missy whimpered, then groaned. At least Clara hoped it was a groan, not a moan. _Please god don’t be a moan._

“I did warn you to stop,” she told Missy sweetly. “And you did disregard me. So, any pain you are currently experiencing is not my fault.”

Missy groaned again - _no_ , Clara reassessed, _that was definitely a **moan**_ \- then smirked. “Oh, poppet. This isn’t a complaint. This is... well...” she giggled. “Do you always play this rough?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	115. Chapter 115

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amy finds herself in a tight spot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Amy has to make a choice to stay alive, but some quick thinking becomes maybe her worst mistake. She becomes the mistress of the Daleks. But maybe after a while she likes it. Maybe she has a real purpose with the universe beneath her boots._

“Pond?” the Doctor asked, his brow furrowing, and really, it’d almost be cute if she wasn’t so terrified that the things surrounding them were about to kill him on sight. “Pond, why do you have a throne?”

“Long story,” she rolled her eyes, then cast her gaze around the room as haughtily as she was able. “You won’t hurt him. Is that understood? You won’t harm him.”

“Understood,” the mechanical creatures intoned as one, and she fought the urge to shudder at the robotic voices. “We comprehend your order, commander.”

“Hang on,” the Doctor’s eyes widened. “‘Commander’? What’s that about?!”

“Does it really matter?” she snapped, glaring down at him. “I’d suggest leaving.”

“Yes, it matters! You’re... you’re controlling the Daleks!”

“Yes, I am, and I’d strongly advise leaving before they get bored and kill you for sport. Believe me, it happened to the last guy who got in here,” she gestured to the still-smoking remains. “So in the nicest of ways, Raggedy Man, do one.”

“But you’re...” he hesitated for a moment, looking conflicted. “Brilliantly clever, yes, but tra-”

“Do not say it. OK? Do not say it, because honestly, this is just... it’s fine. Go.”

He nodded once then turned sharply on his heel and legged it back to the TARDIS. Amy fought to maintain her composure as she scowled around the room at the assembled metal monsters, trying to appear more stern than she felt as the TARDIS dematerialised... then rematerialised around her and her throne, enveloping her into the warm safety of the console room.

“You...” she stammered, getting to her feet and running to the Doctor, who hugged her tight. “You saved me. Oh my god.”

“Of course I did,” he hummed, pressing a kiss to her hair. “Wasn’t going to leave you there, was I?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	116. Chapter 116

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ashildr gets into a bit of a scrape...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Ashildr finds herself upside down, hanging by rope with a throbbing headache and the fact she can't remember anything from several days ago. After freeing herself she discovers she's stuck on an alien planet, which is a new experience. Before long she's on the run from the government with a new companion, much like a certain Time Lord she once knew._

_Dear Journal,_

_Today was quite the turn up for the books - and that’s saying something, coming from me. Woke up with the kind of headache I haven’t seen the likes of since the 1800s and those wonderful parties with the French nobility, which was a bit of a worry. I was concerned my chip was malfunctioning, but once I’d appraised the situation I realised it was probably due to being tied up_ **upside down** , _no less, which was a bit of a pain in the arse, but I remembered all that training with shibari I undertook in Japan and managed to wriggle my way down. Realised the last few days were a total blank - so let’s hope I haven’t done anyone or anything too embarrassing, eh? - before I realised I was on Crandoria-18, which was both a blessing and a curse. What was **definitely** a curse was that the bloody government were still on my back from my last visit, so I ended up fleeing off-world in a cargo ship with a terribly pretty young local by the name of Verlian, who has two heads and a bit of an attitude problem, but beggars can’t be choosers, so I’m making do. Writing this down for posterity’s sake: DO NOT COME BACK TO THE HIGHFELLIAN SYSTEM!!!!!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	117. Chapter 117

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor isn't used to dealing with Pond-plus-one, not unless it's Rory. And especially not if the plus one is wounded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Amy and Original Female Character. Original Female Character gets hurt, badly. Amy yells at The Doctor for him to help. Amy cries as she holds her._

“Doctor, don’t just stand there, do something!” Amy begged, looking up at the Time Lord as she held Izzy in her arms and sobbed. “Doctor, snap out of it!”

He said nothing. Did nothing. Just stood there and blinked down at the two of them; frozen in shock as he looked down at the blood pulsing down Izzy’s side from the enormous, jagged hole punched in her shoulder. 

“Doctor!” Amy shouted, reaching over and thumping him in the shin. “I swear to god, you’d better snap the hell out of it or so help me, I will kick your arse! _Do something_!” 

Her threat seemed to work, because he sprung forward at last, crouching beside Izzy and cupping her cheek with one hand in a tender gesture that took Amy’s breath away. “Hey,” he murmured, getting out the sonic and pointing it at her shoulder. “This might hurt just a little bit, but then you’re going to feel better. I promise.”

“Am I going to die?” Izzy asked faintly, and he scoffed.

“Shouldn’t think so,” he said with a faux-certainty that made Amy’s heart lurch. “Now, hold still, OK?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	118. Chapter 118

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> River puts her foot in it. Again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Amy has a little sister, in her teens, and she gets Amy to agree for her to come with her and the doctor. She gets taken by an alien and River finds her._

“You know,” River mused, leaning against the console and offering Leah a stern look. The teenager was dripping green gunk onto the TARDIS floor, which did nothing to alleviate River or Amy’s mood. “This young lady needs to learn rule one.”

“‘The Doctor lies’?” Amy asked, not entirely sure where River was going with that point. 

“No,” River rolled her eyes. “The other rule one. ‘Don’t wander off.’ Do you know where I found her? In an Anthradi den, tied to a tree trunk. She was going to be their next meal; it was only by virtue of some quick thinking and sharp-shooting that she got out at all.”

“Leah!” Amy glared at her younger sister with as much fury as she could muster, which happened to be quite a lot. “I told you not to wander off; I _warned_ you what could happen!”

“Yeah, and whatshername found me. River, isn’t it? Stupid kind of name if you ask me.”

“I’ll thank you not to talk to your niece like that,” River purred sweetly, then noticed the teenager’s blank look of incomprehension. “Ah. Did I just...”

“You can’t be my niece,” Leah looked confused. “You’re old. Older than Amy, who, like, last time I checked, definitely didn’t have any kids.”

“Oh god,” Amy groaned, sinking into a nearby chair and putting her head in her hands. “River, can you find the Doctor? And call Rory? This is going to take some serious explaining.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	119. Chapter 119

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor tries on his old clothes. Clara doesn't take it well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From allnewtpir's prompt:
> 
> _In the early part of S8, we observed Clara's indecision over accepting 12. Sure she said she accepted him, but actions speak louder. What if 12 noticed, and as a way to test this, put 11's outfit back on, bowtie and all?_

“OK, so I was thinking-” Clara began, stepping into the TARDIS with only a minor sense of apprehension, which in itself was progress; it had taken her weeks to quash her feelings of nervousness around the new Doctor, and now she felt only a mild sense of discomfort, which largely revolved around dealing with his spiky new personality. As she looked around the console room for the Scottish stick insect she was still acclimatising to, she located him and her mouth dropped open. “What the hell?”

He was leaning against the console in a horribly familiar outfit that somehow, despite the TARDIS’s wardrobe abilities, didn’t quite fit him right. The tweed jacket was too tight across the shoulders, and the sleeves just fractionally too short; the trousers were much too snug in an area Clara didn’t want to focus on, and the bow-tie looked frankly ludicrous, improperly tied as it was. “Hi,” he said awkward, ruffling up his hair into an approximation of his former self’s. “I thought...”

“What do you think you’re playing at?” she spat, instantly furious that he would do such a thing. “How dare you?”

“Clara?” he asked, his awkward demeanour dropping and being replaced with wide-eyed concern. “I thought... I wanted to...”

“Take it off!” she commanded, closing her eyes tightly and resolving to keep them closed. “Take it off, now!” 

“I... urm... you mean... here, or...?”

“I don’t care, just take it off! You have no right to do that, you have no right to... to trick me like that!”

“I’m not trying to do anything!” he protested, and there was the soft sound of fabric slipping over itself as he undressed. “I just thought...”

“Thought what? Oh, poor little Clara, can’t cope with your newness, so let’s give her a comfort blanket?” Tears were leaking from underneath her lids now, and she swiped a hand across her eyes without opening them. “You have no right to stand there wearing what he wore. You aren’t worthy of those clothes.”

“What do you mean, not worthy?” he asked in bafflement. “We’re the same-”

“No, you’re not the same! You aren’t him; he isn’t you! You’re just... you’re nothing alike!”

The Doctor sighed, and fell silent for a moment. “You can open your eyes now,” he said at last, and she did so, finding him back in his usual black trousers, neatly-buttoned shirt and magician’s coat. She nodded tightly in approval. “Here.” He held out the pile of Bow-Tie’s clothes to Clara. 

“What...”

“You can have them, if you like. If it’d help.”

She took the parcel after a second’s hesitation, draping the bow-tie around her neck and shrugging on the still-warm jacket. “It would,” she mumbled, pulling the sleeves down over her hands. “I’m sorry I shouted.”

“I’m sorry I put them on. Can I... do anything?”

“Tea,” she mumbled. “Tea would be really nice.”

“I can do tea,” he concurred, leaving the console room, and Clara closed her eyes, breathing in the familiar smell of the _old_ Doctor, trying to come to terms with everything. She wasn’t sure she ever would. Wasn’t sure she ever _could._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	120. Chapter 120

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following their battle with the Skovox Blitzer, Clara and Danny discuss the day's events. It doesn't go well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From allnewtpir's prompt:
> 
> _I watched "The Caretaker" and it seemed that alien aside, the whole episode was one giant dick measuring contest between 12 and Danny. We know how it went on screen, but the prompt is simply how would it be if it went the other way and Clara chose 12?_

"Okay. Tell me what you're thinking,” Clara commanded, snuggling more comfortably into Danny’s chest while trying not to let her heart or her thoughts race out of control. She was terrified of what he was going to say; terrified of what he made of the day’s events. He wasn’t like her. He didn’t have the same hunger for adventure that she had, not since he’d left the army and committed to living a normal life with a normal job and a normal girlfriend. Or at least he’d _thought_ she was a normal girlfriend until yesterday, when that illusion had been shattered by the arrival of two aliens at Coal Hill, and a blue box that broke the laws of spatio-temporal physics.

Danny huffed infinitesimally in a way that she understood to mean he was trying to refrain from saying something he might regret. “I know men like him. I've served under them. They push you and make you stronger, till you're doing things you never thought you could. I saw you tonight. You did exactly what he told you. You weren't even scared. And you should have been.”

Clara frowned, not understanding what he was getting at. “I trust him,” she looked up at Danny with wide, confused eyes. “He's never let me down.” 

Danny scoffed. “Fine,” he said, somehow sounding incredulous and unconvinced and judgemental all at once. “But if he ever pushes you too far, I want you to tell me, because I know what that's like. You'll tell me if that happens, yeah?”

“Yeah, it's a deal,” Clara lied easily, not really seeing how Danny could understand her life with the Doctor. The army was a million miles away from fighting aliens. Superior officers were a million miles away from the Doctor.

“No,” Danny said firmly, his expression hardening into something that was almost a glare. “It's a promise.” 

“Okay,” Clara gave a nervous little laugh. “I promise.” 

“And if you break that promise, Clara,” Danny paused, his eyes growing stern. “We're finished.” 

Something in Clara snapped. She had never been one to take orders from the men she was dating, and this kind of ultimatum was just... she scowled, trying to think of the right word. ‘Unreasonable’ didn’t seem strong enough, but it was the most fitting adjective she could find, and she got to her feet and ran her hands through her hair as she looked down at Danny with a furious expression. “No,” she snapped. “No, you do not get to make that threat. You do not get to hold that over me.”

“Clara, I’m not... I love you and I want you to be safe!”

“I’m sorry, but that’s a load of crap,” she was all but shouting now, but she didn’t care. “I’m not unsafe! My life with him isn’t war, and he’s not my superior officer, he’s my... he’s my...”

“You’re in love with him, aren’t you?” Danny asked quietly. “Don’t try to lie, I’ve seen the way you look at him.”

“No,” Clara lied fruitlessly. “No, I’m not, I...”

“I was willing to overlook that, you know? Because you don’t seem to know it yourself, so it was something I thought I could try to get past. I thought I could try to keep you safe, and to keep an eye you and him. But if you won’t consent to that-”

“If I won’t consent to you manipulating me by threatening to dump me for spending time with my friend, you mean?”

“-then this has no future. It’s him or me, Clara. Wholly me, though, because I’m not having you eloping with him every week and leaving me behind while you’re off doing god knows what.”

“I choose him then,” Clara said with an easy shrug, hating herself for the words but fuelled by anger and spite and something she couldn’t put her finger on. “He doesn’t try to control me like this. He doesn’t get jealous.”

“Jealous?” Danny snorted. “You saw how he was today with me! Practically green-eyed and trying to be the bigger man? Well, he’s welcome to you. I wish you both every happiness.”

He seized his coat, got to his feet and swept from the flat, leaving Clara alone with her thoughts. Had she done the right thing? She was sure she had; the Doctor, after all, had never given her ultimatums about her love life, or tried to interfere with her life outside of him. He understood the compartmental nature of her life, and aside from sometimes landing in the stationery cupboard at work, he understood very clearly which compartment he was in. He’d never made a threat of the kind that Danny had, and she was glad of that.

Did she love him, though? Much as she hated to admit that Danny was right, there was a kernel of truth in his words. She’d loved the _old_ Doctor, that much she knew, and the new one was taking some getting used to, but she was almost certain that she was falling deeper and deeper into _something_ with him each passing day. 

She groaned, putting her head in her hands and flinging herself onto the sofa as she realised there was only one way to clear her head, and that involved not being here.

She typed out a text and sent it before she could think twice.

_It’s over with Danny. Can we go somewhere?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	121. Chapter 121

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara Oswald, Koschei, and casual misogyny.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _The Master (Simm!Master) meets Clara and is quite taken with her, and he unashamedly flirts with her. He doesn't know about her history with Twelve but Clara knows about the history with him and the Doctor. She doesn’t trust the Master but amuses him anyway._

Clara knew full well who the strange man leaning against the counter was. Garbed all in black and with a round face adorned with a silly little beard, she recognised him from the Doctor’s descriptions, even if she had never expected to see him in the flesh, especially not now she’d met his successor.

The Master. A simple title for a dangerous man, but one that she could understand as he looked around the room with the air of a man who was used to people bending to his will... or rather, bending people _to_ his will. 

He cast his gaze towards her and it was all that she could do not to shudder under his heavily-kohled gaze as he blew her a heavily exaggerated air kiss. He was eyeing her hungrily in a way that she was all too familiar with, and she turned away a fraction, rolling her eyes before heading over to him and offering him a wide, polite smile.

“Hi,” she said as brightly as she was able, trying to ignore the way he was looking her over like a piece of meat. “Welcome to Clara’s Diner, what can I get you?” 

“Can I get...” he squinted at her nametag-cum-general chest region. “Oh, _you’re_ Clara? In that case I’ll have you.”

“Ha ha,” she said drily. “Try again.”

“No, really, darling. I’ll take one of you, to go.” 

“Sorry, I’m spoken for.” 

“He doesn’t have to know.”

“ _She_ ,” Clara lied, purely to see what the odious creep’s response would be. His leer didn’t so much as flicker. “And yes, she does.”

“Ah,” he smirked broadly. “Well, I’m sure we could come to an understanding.”

“Not interested,” she said through gritted teeth. “Now, can I get you anything more edible?”

“Well, you’re edible,” he bared his teeth in what approximated to a smile. “And I’ve already told you I’d like you.” 

“You know,” Clara mused, tapping her pen against her notepad and affixing him with a thoughtful look. “You’re precisely as arrogant as every other Time Lord I’ve ever met.”

The blood drained from his face. “I... you...”

Leaning forward, Clara murmured in his ear: “Under his protection. Now, order something actually on the menu, or get out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	122. Chapter 122

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara meets Clara.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt: 
> 
> _Clara (11th Doctor's time maybe, only a few journeys so not experienced yet) teams up with her future self (12th or maybe the time travelling one with Ashildr) to stop a monster but without the Doctor's help. Would she be careful because of paradoxes and spoilers etc. or would she be tempted to change her fate?_

Clara straightened her hair and looked critically at her younger self, who was smoothing down her dress and trying extremely hard not to blush. Poor thing. So embarrassed by her own desire to kiss, well, herself. That would fade with time, not least because of the incident with the TARDIS. 

“It’s OK,” she told Younger-Her, reaching into her bag for her lipstick and reapplying it with a practiced, permanently-steady hand. “He won’t find out about this.”

“You seem very sure about that,” Younger-Her tilted her head to one side, surveying through questioningly. “How can you know that?”

“Because I know everything,” Clara teased, poking her tongue out in a way that she knew looked cute. “I thought you were supposed to be me. Don’t you know these things yet?” 

“Wouldn’t have anything to do with you being from a long way in the future, then?” Younger-Her asked, and Clara sighed, the facade dropping at once as the girl determined the truth of the matter. “I’m not stupid.”

“Was it the hair?”

“No,” Younger-Her grinned playfully. “Although it’s cute. Really cute. I can see why I went for it. Thanks for the hint.”

Clara groaned, realising aloud: “Bootstrap paradox.”

“What?”

“He’ll explain it when you’re older.”

“Don’t patronise me.”

“I’m not patronising you. He will,” Clara shrugged, wanting to move on from the topic. “How did you know?”

“Your eyes are sad,” Younger-Her looked curious for a moment. “Why?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“Can you tell me why you don’t have a pulse?”

“No.”

“Fine,” Younger-Her sighed, resigning herself to living in ignorance. “Any advice? Hints? Tips?”

“Just... appreciate him,” Clara told her, willing her voice to stay level. “That’s all I can say.”

“Can do,” the younger version of her offered her a warm smile, then darted forward to kiss her on the cheek quickly. “Nice meeting you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	123. Chapter 123

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two Masters versus three Doctors. What could possibly go wrong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
>  
> 
> _The Master and Missy have won, they've taken over the world, with an army of Daleks (now under their control through a defeated Davros) as well as a new enemy (really an evil version of the 12th Doctor) The Doctor is on the run, although finds some small hope with a small group of resistance fighters. With the TARDIS out of action it's a miracle they've stayed alive this long. It's also a miracle when the Eleventh Doctor shows up but also the future 13th Doctor does too. The 3 Doctors go to war._

“Dear god,” the Doctor looked between the faces of the two people in front of him; one familiar, one not so familiar. He wanted to groan in resignation, but that seemed impolite. “This is going to end so badly.”

“Why?” the woman asked, but he was barely listening because his brain was too busy objecting to his off-the-cuff categorisation of her. She was not ‘the woman.’ She was him. Him from the future. Nice to know that was how things were going to go; his thoughts flicked momentarily to Missy and how much she would enjoy the news, before his brain caught up and reminded him that Missy no longer cared about anything other than megalomaniacal destruction of the entire galaxy. 

“Ego,” his younger self said with an easy grin that invoked both a feeling of nostalgia and an equally potent sense of irritation. “Is that it?” 

“Maybe,” he huffed, determined to appear mysterious and aloof. “Maybe not.”

“Oh, you’re a rubbish liar. You think that this much ego in one place can’t be a good thing. And you’re right; look how things went for dear old Koschei Squared. Enough ego to make them think they could get away with this plan. But they are one thing that we aren’t.”

“Insane?” his future self asked, and he rolled his eyes.

“We’re insane,” he reminded her. “Just in a somewhat more rational way.”

“So, what are they then?” she asked. “Do share.”

“Impulsive. And also, more to the point... there’s only two of them, and three of us. Which really does give us an advantage.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	124. Chapter 124

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara doesn't know the five teenagers, but they seem to know her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From [Ellie's](https://bazwillendinflames.tumblr.com) prompt:
> 
> _11 and Clara (pre-Coal Hill) end up meeting the Class kids from the future._

Clara was not entirely sure who the five teenagers staring at her from across Starbucks were, but they were kind of starting to creep her out. She’d arrived, ordered a coffee, plonked down happily in a comfy chair, and resolved to wait for the Doctor to show up and get her. 

Only that had been two hours ago, and now she’d been sat here eking out her latte for as long as could be considered reasonable, and the teenagers were still staring. 

They’d arrived about an hour after she had, given her a frankly bizarre look, and then arranged themselves at a table across the room from her. From time to time, one of them, a dark-haired girl, turned to gawp at Clara with something she couldn’t quite place, before they all went back to whispering among themselves and sipping their frappuccinos.

 _Bloody Doctor,_ Clara thought to herself sourly. _He couldn’t just drop me back in the right year, could he? Oh no, that would’ve been far too easy. So now I’m stuck here with a bunch of nosy kids._

Downing the remains of her coffee, Clara was disconcerted when two of the group hastily got to their feet and approached her. They were smiling at her in the kind of way one usually smiles at someone who is about to receive bad news, which was wholly unsettling, and their eyes were... if she didn’t know better, she might’ve said sad.

“Hello,” the boy said brightly, his voice lightly accented. “We were just wondering if you were... ah... M- Clara Oswald?”

“Yes, why?”

The girl, the same curious brunette who had been so focused on her, let out a small squeak. “Urm, this is a slightly weird question, but when are you from?”

“When?” Clara laughed nervously, trying to work out how on earth seemingly normal teenagers could think to ask such a question. “What?”

“What year?” the girl leaned forwards. “Please. We won’t tell anyone, just... it’s important.”

“2011,” Clara confessed, and both teens’ eyes widened. “Why?”

“We ah... look, we know you, and it isn’t a good idea for you to be here. Trust us. Please, just... go somewhere quiet and avoid busy places.”

“Am I in danger?”

“No.”

“Are you?”

“No, just... please.”

* * *

By the time the Doctor came back for her, Clara had been sat on a bench in the park for three hours.

“Clara!” he exclaimed exuberantly, bounding out of the TARDIS with his arms held wide, but she only scowled at him. “What?”

"Idiot,” she muttered, still confused about her earlier encounter and somewhat sore about having been abandoned in 2016 for five hours. “Never do that again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	125. Chapter 125

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She doesn't know who he is, but saving the man in the velvet coat seems the right thing to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _13th Doctor, having no memory of her past except her name saves 12._

She wasn’t entirely sure who the man was. Wasn’t even entirely sure who _she_ was, beyond an idiot with a blue box she half-recalled how to fly. How she got to be here, in this place that her brain dimly reminded her was called London, was a mystery. She just... woke up, stepped outside, and here she was. And there _he_ was. 

A man whose face tugged at her memory, like something forgotten a long while ago, and whose red velvet coat bore the echo of familiarity.

A man who was stood in the centre of the road, gawping at her spaceship and paying no mind to the bus travelling towards him at speed, despite the long blast of its horn as it bore down on him.

She wasn’t sure why she did it, other than that it seemed like the sort of thing she should do.

She lunged forwards, grabbed him by the coat lapels and yanked him onto the pavement as the bus sped past, letting go almost as quickly as she had taken hold of him.

“Thanks,” he muttered brusquely. “You’re...”

“Leaving.”

She turned and headed back to the TARDIS. This city wouldn’t fill in the blanks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	126. Chapter 126

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mysterious student seeks to engage with the Doctor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _13th Doctor, pretending to be a student, trolling 12 in his own class while he's teaching without him knowing who she is the whole time._

The Doctor never found out who she was. He only knew that she sat at the back, in an artful devil-may-care pose, with her hood up and a pair of headphones - that he knew for a fact were not connected to anything - arranged over her ears. He knew this because she never failed to ask questions relating to his lectures, so he knew that she was paying attention, no matter how concertedly she wanted to pretend that she wasn’t.

Her accent was rough and northern, and her questions paid attention to the minute details of his lectures; things that his other students failed to pick up on either due to their age or their ignorance or their refusal to pay absolute attention to his words. This woman - for she was not a girl, that much he was certain of - asked the meaningful questions.

Each week, she would appear at the last possible second before he began speaking, and she disappeared the moment he finished. He never had the chance to ask her who she might be, concerned as he was with saving the world, but he would come to regret that later. 

He never found out who she was, that is, until he found himself alone in the TARDIS, his body aflame, and realised with an abrupt sense of certainty that he had been playing with fire, and himself. The sheer audacity of it sent him out with a smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	127. Chapter 127

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brighton Beach. A perennial favourite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _13th Doctor meeting 11th, and the two getting along perfectly._

She stepped out of the TARDIS and smiled, enjoying the feeling of sand under her shoes for the first time in a long time. Ah, Earth sand. Any sand that wasn’t Gallifreyan sand was ideal as far as she was concerned, but Earth sand was a particular fondness of hers.

“Hello,” a cheerful voice called from somewhere over to her left, and there her younger self was was, grinning from ear to ear in that warm, open way he used to. Of course he’d be here. Brighton beach, August bank holiday? Where else would he be? “You’ve changed a bit.”

“You haven’t.”

“No, I haven’t,” he grinned, adjusting his bowtie and looking pleased by the appraisal. “Ice cream?”

“Please.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	128. Chapter 128

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Doctor no more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _13th Doctor being the incarnation that becomes the Valeyard?_

Something this time was different. She wasn’t sure what; she wasn’t sure how; but something about her felt... uninhibited by the consciences that had plagued her younger, weaker selves. There was anger within her, that much she knew. That much she had _always_ known; she’d been carrying around the weight of it for millennia now, allowing it to weigh her down as she walked through the universe, observing its wanton self-destruction and fighting for what she believed in. That was a fallacy. The universe didn’t need to be saved. The universe needed to be fixed, and she was certain that in this incarnation she could do that.

Oh, it might be undemocratic. Oh, sure, she might be considered dictatorial, or cruel, or mistaken for lesser Time Ladies such as Koschei, bless her dear heart. But she would make a name for herself, and abandon this silly title that she was using now. She would allow herself to be angry, and see what all those years of suppressed rage amounted to when unleashed.

She would be a Doctor no more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	129. Chapter 129

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor and Clara observe their past selves, and ask the real questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Twelve and Clara spot Eleven and Clara from a distance and comment on their past selves._

“Was my chin really that big?” the Doctor asked, his face a mask of abject horror as he turned his head from side to side, one hand on his new - admittedly much smaller - chin in a silent appraisal. “And why was my hair so... peppy? It’s practically vibrating.”

“To be fair,” Clara mused, sipping at her drink and thanking god for the enormous mugs that this tea shop provided. Caffeine was very much necessary when you were confronted with your past self, trailing through the other side of an alien market with your Not-Boyfriend’s past self. “It’s still fairly floofy.”

The Doctor looked like he was about to say something scathing, but his attention was diverted by the waitress setting a slice of cake down in front of him. “Excellent. Ta.”

“My question is: am I really that tiny?”

“Yes,” he said absentmindedly, munching away with cheerful abandon. “You are. It’s cute.”

Clara blushed furiously. “Well,” she mumbled. “As long as you think so, then fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	130. Chapter 130

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill attends a performance by one April MacLean...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From hellastupid1's prompt:
> 
> _A drabble where April MacLean (Class) and Bill meet?_

April wasn’t entirely sure who the frankly adorable bundle of energy who had bounced up to the stage after her performance was, not at first anyway. All she knew was that the girl was beaming from ear to ear, apparently having enjoyed her performance, and as she set her violin back in its case, the stranger reached for her hand and shook it in an oddly old-fashioned yet exuberant manner.

“That was bloody brilliant,” she enthused breathlessly. “Like, honestly, I’ve never really been sure about folk music before, but that was something else, you know?! You’ve got a real talent.”

“Thanks,” April smiled, pleased by the compliment. “I’m glad you enjoyed it, it’s something I love doing.”

“You should definitely pursue it,” the stranger’s eyes widened. “Sorry, I’m Bill, by the way. Rubbish at introducing myself.”

“April,” April said, then realised that Bill already knew her name, having heard it be announced as she stepped onstage. “Sorry. You already... sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Bill grinned. “Look, would you like a drink? Coffee, or...?”

“Coffee would be great.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	131. Chapter 131

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara and Ashildr discuss the confession dial.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From allnewtpir's prompt:
> 
> _What if somehow, via the great beyond or what have you, Clara experienced a part of what 12 went through in the dial and really understood the depths of his love for her?_

“What did he go through?” Clara asked out of the blue one evening, ensconced in a booth of the diner with Ashildr and sipping on a hot chocolate. The sign on the door was flipped to ‘closed,’ and the two of them were attempting to unwind after a day that consisted mostly of flipping burgers, with a disappointing lack of saving any planets. Still, some days, needs must.

“What did who go through?”

“The Doctor,” Clara said patiently, adding: “In the confession dial.”

“Why do you presume I know?” 

“Because you sent him there,” Clara said bluntly, shrugging as she spoke and watching Ashildr turn a delicate shade of pink. “Therefore I’m working on the assumption you might know.”

“He... ah... well, you know how long he spent there.”

“Four and a half billion years. Yeah.”

Ashildr squirmed uncomfortably, lowering her gaze to the table and flicking a crumb off the surface with her finger. “Yeah. It was - from what they told me - a castle, but programmed like a puzzle. It was intended to challenge him and to... to glean information from him, by any means necessary.”

“Torture,” Clara stated, hating that she understood what her fellow immortal was insinuating. “Right.”

“He behaved in an unexpected manner. He refused to cooperate with the demands of the Time Lords, instead choosing to fight his way out. Metaphorically speaking.”

“The harder-than-diamond stuff, you mean?”

“Yes. Only... well, he suffered for that. He died.”

“How could he have died? He’s still out there, Me, he’s still saving the universe.”

“Each time he chose to defy the Time Lords and punch that wall, he was attacked by a creature called the Veil. Each day, he died in agony, and-”

“I get it,” Clara snapped, unable and unwilling to hear any more. “He suffered for me, like the damn fool he is, and now we can’t even be together.”

“It wasn’t my f-”

“How dare you even try to say that?!” Clara snarled, suddenly furious. “How dare you try to pretend that you’re an innocent party in all this when you’re the one who tricked us and killed me and sent him there?!”

“Clara, I...”  
  
“I’m going to my room,” Clara stated, getting up and heading back into the TARDIS itself, fighting back tears as she did so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	132. Chapter 132

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor plays. Clara sings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From ladybaelish's prompt:
> 
> _Twelve is chilling with his guitar, strumming a random tune when out of the blue Clara comes in with a triangle (like how Jenna joked) all cheeky and playful and they just have so much fun together jamming._

Clara was comfortably ensconced in the TARDIS’s extensive library, curled up beside a roaring fire with a copy of _Mansfield Park,_ when the sound of a guitar being strummed filtered through the expansive time machine to her. She smiled fondly, her mouth twisting up into a smile as the strumming morphed into something more ordered; notes regimented into a song that she recognised as one the Doctor so often enjoyed playing for her. She liked to think it was _her_ tune, not that she’d have been foolish enough to admit that to him, but it was nice to entertain the notion, and as he played it now she felt drawn to him; enough to make her set her book aside and get up, padding through the corridors of the ship until she reached the console room.

Warm amber light dappled his white shirt as he played, and she took up a position beside him on the steps, smiling as the tune changed again in response to her presence. He didn’t look at her - and if she didn’t know better, she’d have sworn he was blushing - but the song was a familiar one, twisting into _Pretty Woman_ with a neat little flourish of licks and chords that made her giggle.

She rested her head on the Doctor’s shoulder as he played, and after a moment’s hesitation began to sing the lyrics. She sensed rather than saw his smile, and she half-buried her face in his neck as she continued, letting herself get lost in the moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	133. Chapter 133

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Best helpline in the universe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From allnewtpir's prompt:
> 
> _We know Missy gave Clara 11's number, but what if the Missy that gave Clara the number was the more rehabbed Missy from Series 10?_

“Hi,” Clara leant against the counter and sighed in desperation. “Please, please help me. The internet isn’t working.”

The woman stood on the other side of the waist high - well, chest high on Clara, but that was nothing unusual for her - desk was dressed somewhat oddly for a PC World employee, but Clara found that she wasn’t too bothered about that. She was undoubtedly some kind of tech genius, and from Clara’s limited experience of tech geniuses, they tended to be somewhat eccentric, and hiss at sunlight. So, whereas the woman’s floor-length purple gown did seem a touch at odds with the store’s uniform policy, Clara figured the woman had to be some kind of super-brain, or else they’d have kicked her out on her arse.

“Could you be more specific, dearie?” the woman asked, and Clara was surprised to find that she was broadly Cockney. Some deep-down part of her argued that it was not in any way surprising to find a Cockney in London, but the accent still seemed strange, particularly when coupled with the woman’s knowing smirk. 

“Sorry, do I...” Clara couldn’t quite place the look the older woman was giving her. “Do we know each other?”

“Oh, no,” the woman blinked innocently. _Too_ innocently, but before Clara could probe deeper, she continued. “The internet, you say? Tricky thing, the internet. Very temperamental; I think it’s all those lost souls on social media crying out for help, personally. Now, you want to call _this_ number...” she whipped a pen out of a concealed pocket, snatched a Post-It note from the desk, and scrawled something down. “And ask for help.”

“Can’t you do something technical?” 

“Oh, no,” the woman smiled wolfishly. “I’m not an expert on these sorts of computers. This here number? The best helpline in the universe for your problem. Promise.”

She handed the note to Clara, who squinted down at it suspiciously, before looking back up at-

The woman was gone. Completely and utterly vanished.

Clara shivered, disconcerted, then shrugged and decided to head for home. Calling the helpline would have to suffice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	134. Chapter 134

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Twelve teaches Bill to play the guitar, but she isn't the first companion to receive such a lesson.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _12 tried to teach Clara the guitar, however it was one thing she couldn't get her head around, they joked about it though. Years later he tries to teach Bill who gets it pretty quickly, however some memories of Clara come back to him which gets him emotional although Bill thinks it's cause she's so good at guitar so quickly. 12 however plays along with Nardole commenting about it's annoying the library students down the hall._

Bill strummed the strings of his faded old red guitar again, more confidently this time, and her fingers shifted on the neck as she picked out the second and third chords he’d taught her, moving between them in a vague approximation of a tune. 

He’d done this before, that much he was certain of. He recalled another time and another place; another companion, but this one sat somewhat closer than Bill was. He couldn’t remember her face, but he knew her name was Clara, and that was enough to reassure him as he mulled over the faint recollection of her perched on his lap in the reading chair, giggling as she tried - and failed - to produce a non-dissonant sound from the same guitar that Bill was now using. 

“Hey,” Bill said, breaking his train of thought, and he realised his eyes were wet with tears. “I know I’m good and all, but like... but I’m not _that_ good.”

“You’re annoying the students downstairs, is what you are,” muttered Nardole sourly, shuffling into the room with a pot of tea and two mugs. “But never mind me.”

“We weren’t,” the Doctor said sourly, before immediately feeling guilty as his butler’s face fell. “I mean. Sorry. Just... music is...”

“‘The food of love,’” Nardole rolled his eyes. “Boring.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	135. Chapter 135

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On nights like these, he craves her touch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From misty-vibes23's prompt:
> 
> _Twelve kisses Missy softly on the lips, taking her by surprise._

It wasn’t unusual for him to spend his evenings in the vault, especially not now that Nardole was so hell-bent on nagging him about his travels with Bill and his so-called ‘neglect’ of his duties. The first evening of his butler preaching at him had been tolerable; the second had been wearing; and the third downright annoying, and thus he had taken to spending time with Missy for the simple reasons that she was his own kind, and his friend, and less inclined to shout at him for having a life. (Blink at him balefully, yes. Shout, no.) 

This evening was one of those times: he felt unkind for discussing his travels with her, yet he knew that equally she enjoyed experiencing them vicariously through his stories. This time, though... this time he was scared. This time things had happened that were outside of his control, and it had nearly gone badly wrong.

“Hey,” she said gently, putting one hand on his shoulder and offering him a reassuring smile. That was... new, but not unwelcome. “You survived, Doctor. You’re alright, and Bill is alright.”

“But she nearly _wasn’t_.”

“But she is,” she affirmed, moving her hand to his cheek, and there was something in her smile that he had never seen before: compassion. “And so are you. You’re safe here. She’s safe with you. Always.”

“I...” he leaned over and kissed her before he could think about the implications of the action, craving her touch, and after an initial gasp of surprise she opened her mouth to him enthusiastically.

When he pulled away some considerable time later, she was smiling, and she swiped a thumb over his lips, removing the traces of her lipstick from his mouth.

“Well,” she said, smirking. “I was wondering when you were finally going to get around to doing that again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	136. Chapter 136

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Twelve and Clara show up to the Ambassador's Ball with noble intentions, but, as they say, Thirteen is a crowd...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _12 meets 13 and Clara's bi ass can barely handle it._

“That’s...” Clara stammered, blinking in stupefaction at the tall, slender blonde woman who was stood across the ballroom from them, engaged in conversation with a bright purple alien and laughing prettily every few minutes. She was dressed in a glittering navy gown which caught the light whenever she moved, and Clara sucked in an appreciative breath. “That’s _you_?”

“Yeah,” the Doctor grinned. “I’m the purple one.”

“Ha ha,” Clara deadpanned, gaping at the Doctor’s future incarnation. “Damn.”

“What?”

“She’s...” she hesitated for a moment, trying to find the right word. “Gorgeous.”

“Excuse me,” he protested, wrapping an arm around Clara’s waist and pressing a kiss to her bare shoulder. “Am I not?”

“You’re very handsome,” Clara purred, twisting in his arms so that she could press a teasing kiss to the side of his mouth. “But she’s gorgeous too, and right now I am having all kinds of inappropriate thoughts.”

“I bet you are.”

“Can you introduce us?”

“I cannot even begin to explain to you how unbelievably catastrophic having a threesome with myself would be.”

“I wasn’t thinking a threesome,” Clara muttered sulkily. “I was thinking flirting. Now, can you, or not?”

The Doctor paused. “Yeah,” he said eventually. “Alright then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	137. Chapter 137

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life with the Ponds is never easy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Doctor Who Rick and Morty AU. The Doctor is a funny alcoholic who lives with his in-laws called the Ponds. They don't trust him but put up with him for their daughter Clara. He is also a scientist who enjoys adventuring to different planets. He lives in the garage, which he's painted blue and calls the TARDIS. He uses it to generate energy and uses his sonic screwdriver as a way to generate portals from that energy. He travels with Bill and Nardole from the local uni where Clara works._

“Darling,” Amy said seriously one morning, looking across the kitchen to where her no-longer-all-that-young-but-still-rather-small daughter was pouring herself her second cup of coffee in twenty minutes and scanning the _Guardian_ website on her phone as she did so. “I don’t wish to interfere in your life-”

“Then don’t.”

“...but I’m worried about you,” Amy continued, ignoring Clara’s warning. “And that husband of yours. He’s very... odd.”

“Mum,” Clara sighed. “I know you don’t like him, OK? Just admit that you don’t like him, because frankly this whole bullshitty ‘tiptoeing around the issue’ thing is starting to do my head it.”

“It’s not that I don’t like him-”

“You literally got drunk at my wedding and told me that you thought he was a waste of space and I’d made a massive mistake.”

“That’s not the _point_ ,” Amy rolled her eyes. “Just... why does he live in the garage and not in your room?”

“Because we value personal space.”

“Should you be married then?”

“Mum!” Clara looked aghast. “Marriage is not about spending every waking moment together. Not everyone is like you and Dad, and therefore engaged in some weird symbiotic shit.”

“Darling, I just think that...”

“I love him, Mum. And he shows me wonders and opens my eyes to all kinds of things. Not to mention he absolutely adores me.” 

“But the drinking... love, it’s becoming a real-”

“I’m working on it,” Clara flashed her mother a tight smile. “Gotta run, gonna be late.”

She dashed from the room before Amy could say another word, leaving her half-empty mug steaming on the table.


	138. Chapter 138

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara is trying to study, not that Missy cares. Misffle high school AU.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Misffle high school AU._

Clara scowled at Missy Oakdown from over the top of her iPad, watching the older girl skim through a calculus book at top speed, before scowling and casting it aside with a disdainful expression. “Boring,” Missy muttered to herself, reaching for the next book and summarily flicking through that. “Wrong.”

Clara sighed and set down her tablet, affixing Missy with a long look. “Sorry, but... some of us are trying to study.”

“Sorry, Little Miss Boring, but this is a canteen, not the library, and some of us are trying to critically appraise the dross they keep setting us as required reading. Not that you’d know anything about reading, given your oversized calculator. What are you playing? Angry Birds? You’d fit right in with your angry twittering.”

“I’m reading an _Economist_ article on the oil industry, actually. Digital edition-only.”

“God, you’re dull,” Missy raised her eyebrows. “Why don’t you join the cheerleading squad or do something else of note?”

“Because cheerleading is an outdated patriarchal notion that objectifies women’s bodies and promotes the idea that women are a valid and viable form of motivation and reward for engaging in sporting pastimes.” 

Missy fell silent for a long moment, then got up from her table, gathered her stack of books, and dropped into the seat beside Clara in one fluid movement. “OK, I’m revising my opinion of you,” she said pragmatically. “Got anything interesting on that iPad of yours?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	139. Chapter 139

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John meets floor, then meets Clara.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _The Doctor meets Clara at a bar, she works there before the uni. He first notices her heels when he's semi-conscious on the floor and before the night's over they're both drunk with the Doctor and her on a different planet getting married as a joke although it turns out to be real?_

The Doctor was not entirely sure who the absurdly high-heeled black boots belonged to. They appeared and disappeared from his peripheral vision for what felt like an eternity, always heading past him and never stopping, before finally approaching him directly and stopping just out of his reach.

“What are you doing down there?” a warm, teasing voice asked, and he forced himself to look up enough to take in the sight of a small woman with dark hair, who was looking down at him with amused incredulity.

“You’re small,” he slurred before he could stop himself. “Th’heels aren’t much help.”

“Thanks,” she said drily, and the next thing he was aware of was a glass of water splashing over his face. “I was going to let you drink that, but comments about my height are unwelcome, as are unscrupulous men who can’t handle their drink.”

“Shit,” he muttered, sitting up and shaking water out of his nose and ears. “Sorry. Tha’ was rude. I’m John.”

“No, you’re drunk.”

“Yes, I’m Drunk. Who does that make you? Small?” 

“Hilarious,” she rolled her eyes. “If you want a glass of water, I’ll be behind the bar.”

And with that, she turned on her heel and walked away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	140. Chapter 140

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor tries to bypass the neural block.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Nardole calls Bill for help in an emergency situation. Bill is shocked to arrive at the vault to see the Doctor shaking and both Missy and Nardole trying to comfort him. He's used a memory drug but it's started to cause an unhealthy relapsing habit and this is the first time that Missy has needed help to "fix him" the Doctor has been trying to get back memories of Clara, Missy can tell stories but it's not like seeing her. Bill is shocked about all of this obviously._

Bill gaped down at the Doctor’s prone form, trying to work out what she could say or do to help him. She’d never seen him like this: shaking and sobbing and sweating so profusely that his face seemed almost reflective, his hands clutching the arms of his chair so tightly she was worried the wood might warp.

“What happened?” she asked, forcing herself to be pragmatic and jogging over to the small sink in the corner of the room, finding a washcloth and wetting it under the tap. That always helped her to calm down, so maybe it would help him. “Why’s he like this?” she called over her shoulder, when no response was forthcoming.

“Memory drug,” Missy said tartly after a moment’s pause, as Bill returned to the Doctor’s side and began dabbing at his forehead in an attempt to alleviate his temperature. She wasn’t entirely sure what the normal temperature of Time Lords _was,_ but burning up could never be good. “Idiot decided he wanted to try and break past the neural block.”

“The what now?”

“He wiped his memory of someone,” Nardole said with a grimace. “And now he’s tried to undo it, and this has happened.” He turned his attention to Missy. “I _told_ you it was a bad idea.”

“The stories weren’t working,” Missy shrugged, looking oddly guiltily. “He wanted to try and fix himself.”

“And look at him now.”

“It’s not my fault! You should’ve been supervising! Haven’t you got a dut-”

“Duty of care,” the Doctor gasped, his eyes snapping open and staring past them all, unseeing. “I’ve got a duty of care, Clara.”

Missy sighed and placed her hand on his forehead. There was a brief spark, and then his eyes fluttered closed.

“What did you do?” Bill asked, confused. “And who’s Clara?”

“Mum skills,” Missy explained. “Now, you’d best sit down, dear.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	141. Chapter 141

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Master meddles with biology.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _The Master infects the Doctor with a toxic sample of his blood which is slowly taking over, before escaping, during one of the Doctor's adventures the Doctor at first imagines the Master trying to convince him to be evil until he starts to mentally take over, with the Doctor becoming more like his 'old friend' while trying to find a cure. Maybe he fully takes over?_

“What did you do to me?” the Doctor snarled, looking up at his old nemesis, who was leaning against the TARDIS console and smirking like the Cheshire Cat. “Why do I feel like this?”

“Feel like what?” the Master asked, pouting in a faux-innocent manner. “You might have to explain. After all, I might be a mind reader but I still want to hear you say it.”

“Like... like I want to destroy things,” the Doctor clenched his fists. “Like I want to watch the world burn at my feet. Like I want to conquer.” He licked his lips hungrily, hating himself as he continued in a low, dangerous voice quite unlike his usual warm tone: “I want the universe.”

“Sounds awfully familiar,” the Master pretended to ponder the issue, stroking his chin mockingly. “Sounds rather like... well, like me.”

“What did you do?”

“Blood sample. Pathetically easy. The darkness will consume you, and then you will destroy everything and everyone you love.”

“How do I stop it?”

“You don’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	142. Chapter 142

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matteusz seeks dating advice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From [Ellie's](https://bazwillendinflames.tumblr.com) prompt:
> 
> _Could you please write a drabble where Clara gives Matteusz dating advice on how to ask Charlie to the prom. I just love Matteusz and Clara so much._

“Miss Oswald?”

Clara looked up, finding Matteusz Andrzejewski leaning in the doorway of her classroom and looking exceptionally worried. Well, more worried than usual - he was an unusually sensitive kid prone to fretting about the feelings of others and the state of the world. “What can I do for you?” she asked, closing her diary and setting it aside as the teen stepped over the threshold and dragged a chair over so that he could sit opposite her.

“I would like to ask someone to the prom.”

“Oh!” she smiled. “What’s their name?”

“Charlie,” he confessed, looking nervous, but Clara’s smile only widened. “Charlie Smith.”

“He’s a lovely boy,” she told him, pleased to think the strange, shy new boy might soon have a date, or at the very least a friend. “What’s the problem?”

“I do not know if he is... like me. If he likes boys.”

“Well, there’s nothing to lose if you just ask him if he’d like to go to prom with you. He’s a sweet lad, he’s not going to punch you or take offence.”

“Are you certain of it?”

“Absolutely. I think just being brave and asking him outright would be the best idea.”

“OK,” Matteusz beamed. “If you are sure, then that is what I will do.”

Clara nodded, and he got to his feet. “Good luck!”

“Thank you!” he enthused, heading back towards the door. “I will tell you if he says no or yes!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	143. Chapter 143

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a nondescript cafe in London, the Doctor and Clara tell each other the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From allnewtpir's prompt:
> 
> _We're in the cafe at the end of "Death in Heaven". What if 12 & Clara told each other the truth?_

“I see you’ve got news for me,” the Doctor forced himself to sound upbeat as he spoke, even though the simple bracelet clipped around Clara’s wrist was enough to make his hearts ache. He couldn’t let her see that. He couldn’t let her know how much the thought of her leaving him was almost too much to bear, so he faked a smile and hoped it would be enough to convince her.

“News?” she asked, her brow furrowing, and he gesticulated vaguely to the black bangle.

“He figured it out then? PE figured out there was a way home.”

“Yeah,” she said, smiling as she spoke, but the light didn’t reach her eyes. Other humans might be a mystery to him but Clara Oswald was not, and he knew that smile well enough to know that there was something she wasn’t telling him.

“You’re doing it again,” he blurted before he could stop himself, remembering his words from all those weeks before and reusing them. “The sad smile. It's a smile but you're sad.”

“I’m not sad,” she mumbled, but she dropped her gaze and he knew that she only did that when she lied. “I’m happy.”

“No, you’re not,” he said gently, reaching over and covering one of her hands with his own. “Clara?”

“It doesn’t matter,” she sniffed and then looked up at him with the same wide, sad smile, her eyes wet with unshed tears but her tone bouncy and bright as she took a deep breath. “Don’t you need to go and be the King of Gallifrey?”

“President,” he corrected automatically, even as he flexed his knuckles and recalled the dull ache in them from the previous day, when he had found his old friend to be lying. It should’ve been a surprise, and yet it wasn’t. “No, actually.” 

“What happened?”

“I’m not the only Time Lord who lies, apparently.”

“You don’t lie to me.”

“No, I don’t, so I’d like you to return the favour and tell me the truth.”

“I’m sorry about Gallifrey,” she said, looking him in the eye, and he could see the compassion laid bare in her hazel irises. “I’m sorry she lied, and I’m sorry I did. I just...”

She stopped and swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand, and he let her have a moment to compose herself.

“He didn’t come back,” she confessed quietly. “He saved the little boy instead.”

“I’m sorry,” he said with sincerity, as she turned her hand over in his and allowed their fingers to mesh together. “I truly am.”

“I know,” she sniffed. “Can we... can we go somewhere?”

“Are you sure? Don’t you have pudding brains to be teaching?”

“Time machine.”

“Clara...” 

“Please,” she implored softly. “Please, just let me run away from it all. Please.”

He hesitated for half a beat and then nodded. “OK,” he murmured. “OK, we can run away.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	144. Chapter 144

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Eleventh Doctor meets a woman he doesn't recognise, but she seems to know him...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Could you do Eleven meets Missy? (she looks younger so that's why Twelve doesn't recognise her) She'd know who he was but he wouldn't have a clue._

“My god.”

The Doctor was not immediately sure who had uttered the soft exclamation of surprise, but as he turned on the spot in the darkened alleyway, he found himself face to face with a dark-haired woman with enormous, dangerous green eyes and the kind of smirk that he found just _slightly_ too attractive.

“You look so _young_.”

“Urm,” he began uncertainly, sifting through his memories in the hope of finding a clue to this mysterious woman’s identity. She seemed to know him, but he didn’t have a clue who she might be. “Sorry, have we met? I’m terrible at this, I’ve really got to start keeping a better social calendar. Or get Facebook. Amy is very big on me getting Facebook, but logistically, you see, it’s difficult - trying to work out the timelines and such, and I don’t think they’d believe my real date of birth, and-”

“Hush,” the woman affixed him with a stern glare, and to his considerable surprise he shut up. “Just... you don’t know me yet, it’s a long story. Know I wish you well. Today, at least.”

“Thank you,” the Doctor furrowed his brow in puzzlement, casting his gaze down to his shoes to hide his look of confusion. “I th-”

He looked back up to find the woman had vanished without a trace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	145. Chapter 145

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor shows her new companion something amazing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Bradley Walsh companion and Jodie Doctor visit an alien space ship for the first time? His reaction to seeing Earth and aliens would be hilarious no doubt._

“This is...” he looked around in wonder, unable to put into words the sheer novelty and euphoria of being somewhere that wasn’t Earth. All his life, he’d walked the same planet without any real thought for the worlds beyond his own, and this was... indescribably alien, in every sense. “This is amazing.”

“I know,” the Doctor said patiently from several feet away, where she was peering out of a window with a grin. “Come see this.”

He traipsed over to where she was stood, following her gaze and discovering Earth spread out before them in a whirl of blue, green and white. He could recognise the outlines of Europe and Africa, dotted with perfect white wisps of cloud, and his face lit up in a grin. “It’s beautiful,” he hummed, determined not to cry in front of the Doctor. “And I can see my house from up here.”

She snorted, then rolled her eyes in fond exasperation. “Yeah, alright. Come on, we’ve got a distress call to investigate.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	146. Chapter 146

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a familiar face on ITV1...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From allnewtpir's prompt:
> 
> _13 & Clara (Bill/Heather removed the chronolock), along with BW's character, are watching tele and "The Chase" comes on, causing 13 & Clara to look at BW's character and go wait a minute..._

“Hang on,” Clara frowned, leaning forward and snagging the remote off her coffee table, unable to believe what she was seeing. “That’s...” she paused the TV, rewound it a few seconds, and then gawped. 

“That’s me, yep,” Phil said brightly, shoving a handful of Doritos into his mouth and looking entirely unabashed by the situation. “Presenting The Chase. You’re not going mad, don’t worry.”

“But how...”

“Clara, really,” the Doctor teased, elbowing her companion in the side playfully. “I’d have expected you, of all people, to understand these things. In your case, it was echoes. In Phil’s... spatial genetic multiplicity.”

“So that... isn’t actually Phil?”

“No, that’s Bradley Walsh,” Phil explained in a patient tone. “And I must say: I’m the better looking one.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	147. Chapter 147

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Twelfth Doctor meets his TARDIS.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Twelfth Doctor meets the human TARDIS, maybe in a dream and she complains with him at the uni they don't travel together much anymore please? I'll throw in a cookie if she's in a modern outfit this time, say a leather jacket or hoodie or something._

“You know,” a soft, unfamiliar female voice purred as the Doctor stepped over the threshold. “We don’t get to spend nearly enough time together anymore.”

The Doctor scowled, looking around his office as he closed the door behind him. He prayed this wasn’t a deluded student or anything of that ilk; he’d had enough of dealing with hysterical twenty-something women blushing when he looked at them, and he didn’t have the energy for it today.

“Who’s there?” he called, looking around and then noticing a dark-haired, slightly-unkempt looking woman perched on the Chesterfield sofa in the corner. She was dimly familiar, although he couldn’t immediately place her, and she was - to his considerable consternation - wearing a hoodie and velvet jacket identical to his own. “Who are you?”

“It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?” she said softly, getting to her feet before coming over and cupping his cheek. Her hands were warm - far too warm to be human - and she let out a soft sigh, exhaling a small puff of golden energy. “My thief.”

“You’re...” the recollection was sudden, and he gaped at her. “Idris?”

“Hello,” she murmured. “I thought I’d say hello.”

“How are you doing this?”

“The TARDIS Voice-Visual Interface, with a little touch of Time Lord tech to make me solid enough to touch,” she dropped a curtsy. “What do you make of me?”

“Beautiful,” he said honestly, trying not to gape in wonder, and she laughed. “Would you ah... like something to drink? Can TARDISes drink tea?”

“I don’t know,” she hesitated for a moment. “I’ve always wanted to try tea, so why not?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	148. Chapter 148

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oswin Oswald isn't entirely sure where she is, but it sure beats the Dalek Asylum.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From [Ellie's](https://bazwillendinflames.tumblr.com) prompt:
> 
> _The Doctor goes back to save Oswin after he realises she was an echo of Clara and 'saves' her to the Library (like he did with River). Bonus if he sends her a message through the library data core (you can pick) along the lines of 'run you clever girl, I remember you.'_

“Hello.”

Oswin didn’t recognise the voice, or her surroundings. She’d been in her... well, she wasn’t quite sure what to call it. Not a home, certainly, but her... refuge? Perhaps? She’d been in her refuge, and the kind, attractive man with the enormous chin had been talking to her, and then-

Oh. She’d had the unhappy truth of her existence pointed out to her, and blown herself up in a vaguely suicidal yet somewhat heroic manner.

She looked down automatically, relieved to find two arms ending in normal, human hands - not the weapons she’d half been expecting.

“It’s alright,” the voice said, and Oswin blinked hard, looking around and realising that she was in a high-ceilinged white-painted bedroom, resting on a luxurious four-poster bed, with a kind, middle-aged woman with a mass of blonde hair sat beside her. “You’re safe here.”

“Who are you?” Oswin managed, struggling into a sitting position. “Where am I?”

“I’m Professor River Song,” the woman explained with a warm smile. “You might have met my husband, the Doctor.”

“Chin Boy?”

“Oh yes, that’s him,” River chuckled. “Well, luckily for you, he saved you. Metaphorically and literally.”

“I’m not a damsel in distress, I don’t need saving.”

“You’re not a Dalek in distress either,” River raised an eyebrow. “You’re human, and you did an incredibly compassionate thing, and he wanted to say thank you.”

“Where am I?” Oswin asked again, and River smiled.

“The data core of the Library. The Doctor managed to save your consciousness before the Asylum blew, and he uploaded you here.”

“So I’m... a data ghost?”

“Yep,” River grinned, giving a cheeky little wave. “So am I.”

“Right.”

“He ah...” River looked down at her hands, then back up at Oswin. “He left you a message.”

“Oh? What was it?”

“‘Run, you clever girl. I remember you.’”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	149. Chapter 149

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amy Pond finds a strange girl on the doorstep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _River loses her daughter just like Amy and Rory lost her. As a teenager, she finds her way to Amy and Rory's house, looking for her mum._

Amy looked down at the teenage girl stood on the doorstep, perplexed by the girl’s outfit of jeans and t-shirt, which seemed wholly impractical for the December snow, and even more perplexed that the girl seemed entirely unaffected by the sub-zero temperatures. The only practical item of clothing that the youngster seemed to be wearing was a beanie hat, but otherwise she seemed more appropriately garbed for summer.

“Are you OK?” she asked, frowning slightly as the girl blinked up at her with oddly familiar eyes that she couldn’t quite place. “Aren’t you cold?”

“No,” the girl said with a casual shrug, and she seemed to be telling the truth. “Not really, I don’t notice it.”

There was something in the way that the teenager was holding herself that reminded Amy of the Doctor: the slight aloofness, the awkward positioning of her limbs, and-

“It’s a really big advantage actually, because it means I’m more or less impervious to weather conditions, but it’s also kind of annoying because people tend to look at me weirdly. Including you. And you’re not one of the people I’ve ever wanted to look at me funny,” the girl said without properly pausing for breath, which was all it took to convince Amy of the veracity of her theory. “Because you’re one of the only people I’ve ever properly wanted to m-”

“You’re not human, are you?” Amy asked with resignation. 

“No,” the girl admitted. “I mean, a little bit, yeah, but mostly... no.” 

“And the Doctor would be...”

“Urm,” the girl blinked, giving a nervous little laugh and turning a violent shade of maroon. “So, don’t go bananas, but I know him as ‘Dad.’ Only hypothetically, really, because I’ve not had the pleasure of making his acquaint-”

“Hang on,” Amy held up one hand, silencing the girl. “If he’s ‘dad’, then who’s ‘mum’?” 

She knew, in her heart of hearts, what the girl was going to say, even before she said it.

“Here’s the thing,” the teenager looked a touch apologetic, reaching up and removing her hat to reveal a mass of golden curls. “That’d be one Melody Pond... which makes you... Grandma.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	150. Chapter 150

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara runs into an unfamiliar face in Victorian London. She doesn't know him, but he seems to know her...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From allnewtpir's prompt:
> 
> _Prince Albert coming across Clara._

“Liebe, there you are,” a softly-accented voice hummed from behind Clara, and she jumped as two arms snaked around her waist. As she struggled to turn around in his unwanted embrace, the stranger only chuckled by way of response, murmuring in her ear. “So unsettled today, is it the baby?”

“Urm,” Clara began, jabbing her elbow backwards and into the man’s ribs, before twisting out of his grasp and turning to take in the sight of a tall, dark-haired man with a small moustache, whose appearance vaguely rang a bell. He looked wounded - in every sense of the term - and she felt a touch guilty. “Not sure who you think I am, but there’s definitely no baby involved.”

The Doctor had decided it was imperative to investigate strange disappearances occurring in London. Which would have been easier if he hadn’t immediately vanished on the trail of some elusive clue, leaving her to her own devices in the fetid cesspool of the Victorian city. She’d wound up here, in some institute or another, and she’d been trying to best to blend in and gather information when this stranger had accosted her.

“Victoria, why would you say that?” his expression fell, and he looked abruptly distraught. “Has something happened? Have you been bleeding?”

Clara gestured down to her flat stomach, then at her face. “Not pregnant or Vict-” realisation dawned. “Hang on, when you say ‘Victoria’... would that be...”

“Why are you playing these games?” he asked. “It does not befit the monarch to jest so.”

“Bollocks,” Clara muttered, finally understanding who she was talking to. “Urm. Sorry... darling. I think I’ve had a fit of the vapours. I’ll just pop out... for some air.”

He frowned a little but she was gone before he could protest, heading outside and into the street. 

 _Well,_ she thought to herself. _So, one of me is the Queen of England. The Doctor is_ never _going to live this down._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	151. Chapter 151

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor chooses his first guitar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Twelve chooses his guitar after he realises his hair is getting longer so he either buys one or creates one and gives it a first go._

“I think,” the Doctor murmured to the TARDIS console, running his hand over the cool metal with a lingering sense of reticence. “That it might be time to change my image.”

The time machine burbled in what sounded awfully like laughter, and he scowled up at the central column. “What? Is that so funny? I don’t have to wait until I have a whole new face to look like a whole new man. I could be a pirate. Or a dandy. Or a rock star. I think I’d like to be a rock star; I’ve got the mad hair now, look.” He ran his hands through it, ruffling it up so that it formed a fluffy, silver halo around his face. 

The TARDIS beeped in reluctant approval, and he resisted the urge to make a smug comment. Smug comments usually resulted in sulking, and sulking usually resulted in him and Clara ending up on the wrong planet, being shot at or worse. 

“I just need a-”

He didn’t get any further into his sentence, because a guitar had appeared in the console room where there definitely hadn’t been a guitar a second earlier. Resting on the reading chair, it was black and white with a faint glittery finish, and it was, in a word, perfect.

“Did you just...”

He approached it and picked it up, strumming an experimental chord that he dimly remembered learning from a long-ago late-night YouTube tutorial. Even to his relatively untrained ear, the instrument sounded good, and he smiled.

“Thanks, old girl,” he murmured. “I owe you one.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	152. Chapter 152

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pond Squared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Amy's sister Leah teams up with Eleven to find her sister and her brother-in-law. It's her first time on an alien planet and the Doctor can't get over the fact he's only just meeting her now._
> 
>  
> 
> Leah is first mentioned [here.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10845912/chapters/26248956)

"Hang on,” the Doctor frowned, adjusting his bow-tie absentmindedly as he looked from Leah to Amy and then back again. “There’s two of you.”

“Yep,” Amy rolled her eyes, annoyed by how slowly he was catching on. “There is indeed.” 

“But... you...” he stammered, looking so adorably confused that Amy was almost tempted to laugh at his blind lack of comprehension. “Aunt Sharon... that big house...”

“The crack in my wall swallowed a lot of things, Doctor,” Amy explained for the hundredth time, wondering what part of this the Time Lord was failing to grasp. That great big brain, but apparently siblings were not a concept that he could compute. “Including...”

“Me,” Leah interjected, with an awkward little wave, before grimacing. “Can we not call it ‘being swallowed by a crack,’ though? Sounds vaguely dodgy.”

“This...” the Doctor said, ignoring her snide remark. “This is like... Pond Squared. I’m being even more out-gingered than usual. This is unacceptable.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Leah said sweetly. “Do Time Lords prefer blondes?”

“He’s got a whole thing about not being ginger,” Amy groaned. “It’s a complex. Just be your normal ginge self, and maybe we can make him green with envy.”

“Think of the clashing,” Leah deadpanned. “Awful.”

“Well,” the Doctor sighed. “This is going to be an experience.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	153. Chapter 153

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor and Clara encounter a team of prejudicial Mancunian police officers, one of whom looks familiar...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt: 
> 
> _Clara Oswald and Doctor are in the past, Manchester in 1973. They meet a certain Sam Tyler and Gene Hunt and help them solve a case; that's if the Doctor can trust someone who looks just like his arch enemy._

Clara didn’t fully understand why, but the Doctor was frozen on the spot, his eyes locked on the police officers who had piled out of a hideous brown Ford Cortina and told them they looked suspicious in the kind of tone that generally insinuated that, pardon her language, shit was about to go down. They were only police officers; they’d dealt with their ilk before. Far worse police, too, like officers with two heads or laser machine guns. Four middle-aged blokes with a crap car were no big deal, but the Doctor looked like he’d seen a ghost.

“You,” he managed after a minute, overlooking the biggest, meanest looking officer in favour of a slightly mousy bloke with a leather jacket and an enormous shirt collar. “What are you doing here?”

“Believe me, pal, I’ve been asking myself the same question for a long time. I-”

“Excuse me,” the scowling officer spat in a strong Mancunian accent. “I am the DCI here, and I get to speak first.”

The Doctor completely ignored him, asking the smaller man: “How the hell did you escape? Gallifrey was... it was time-locked, there was no way...”

“Oh good,” one of the officers with curly hair rolled his eyes. “A loony.” 

“Well, _she_ can’t be a loony,” the DCI shot back. “She’s much too good-looking to be mental.”

“She's gonna smack you if you keep calling her 'she,’” Clara scowled. “He’s not a... loony. Nor am I. Also, it’s an offensive term. I’d prefer you not to use it.”

“Oh, good,” the DCI grimaced. “A feminist. Right, Loony Bloke, Bra Burning Bird, we’re taking you in.”

Clara groaned, stepping closer to the Doctor as the curly-haired officer approached her with a gleeful expression. “Fine,” she acquiesced. “But I’m warning you: hands where I can see them. I know taekwondo.” 

“Thai-what?”

She sighed. “Just... never mind.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	154. Chapter 154

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor and Missy disagree about guitars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _The Doctor isn't sure why it's happening, but he has found himself in a debate with Missy over the type of guitar is best: electric or acoustic? Trust Bill to enter the vault to hand in an essay late and end up stopping their argument._

“Sorry, but electric is clearly vastly superior. You can’t get anything near to the sound quality of an electric on an acoustic; it’s just not possible without the amp.”

Bill frowned a little as she sidled into the vault, her essay on string theory clutched in one hand as she headed towards the sound of the Doctor’s somewhat irate voice.

“That’s a load of crap, Thete,” she heard Missy retort. “Acoustics are the best for authenticity and emotion. You can’t compare that rawness to an electric. It’s just... not possible.”

Bill stepped into Missy’s living space, finding the two Time Lords nose to nose and scowling with the sort of intensity that could probably melt stone. The Doctor’s attention immediately snapped to her, and he beamed brightly in a manner that was entirely disconcerting.

“Bill!” he enthused. “Tell Missy that electric guitars are vastly superior to acoustic ones.”

“Bill,” Missy said sweetly. “Tell this prat that I’m right, and acoustics are better.”

“I think they both have their merits,” Bill shrugged. “Dependent on your preference of sound, aesthetic, genre, and function, then both can be considered equally advantageous.”

Both Time Lords fell silent, and Bill cleared her throat awkwardly.

“Anyway... urm, my essay...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	155. Chapter 155

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, UNIT need to be reminded to mind their manners.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Thirteen getting involved with some old school UNIT shenanigans would be absolutely awesome!_

The Doctor looked around at the assembled UNIT personnel with a somewhat guilty grin, knowing that any overt beaming would be wholly unhelpful to the situation at hand. She was handcuffed to a chair in a cramped, grey-walled room, and surrounded by enough testosterone to make her decidedly uncomfortable.

“So, you put _what_ in our tea?” one particularly burly officer barked, and she rolled her eyes at his lack of manners.

“For the last time, nothing lethal.”

"Define ‘nothing lethal,’ you little witch! Who are you working for? The Russians? The Cubans?”

“Neither of the above,” she assured them, fighting the urge to roll her eyes again. “Look, if you’d just let me-”

There was a loud _pop,_ and a nearby chap in uniform turned a violent shade of turquoise. It was then that the door of the room opened, and a familiar figure with a large moustache entered, looking over at her with a suspicious glare. 

“So,” the Brigadier said after a moment, his expression softening into an enormous grin. “You’ve changed.”

“You haven’t.”

“What did you put in the tea?”

“Nothing dangerous. Just something to remind your officers to mind their manners around women, and not assume I’m the tea lady.”

“Well, if you’re not the tea lady then who the devil are you?” the newly-blue officer spluttered, and the Brigadier affixed him with a weary expression.

“What am I paying you all for? She’s the Doctor. Do keep up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	156. Chapter 156

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The lack of recognition is crushing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt: 
> 
> _Twist where Clara forgets the Doctor and he visits her in the dinner, he'd probably leave Ashildr off somewhere to start again and not screw up._

He’d known that seeing Clara again would hurt. He’d never expected it to be easy: to stand across from her as she looked at him with blank incomprehension, unable to remember so much as his face or his name, would be acute torture. But he’d thought it would be something he could deal with when it happened; thought he’d be able to handle the pain of her unfamiliarity with him, and then impart the truth to her.

As it was, he was frozen where he stood; unable to so much as move or think or breathe. She didn’t have a clue who he was, instead smiling glibly at him like he was any other customer, while undoubtedly judging his outfit as being curiously inappropriate for the Nevada sun.

“Hello?” she asked, and he realised it was the second or third time she’d repeated the stock greeting. “Can I help you?”

“I ah...” he looked at her eyes, empty of the warmth that he was so familiar with, and he felt his hearts break in synchronicity for what he’d lost. “No. Never mind. Wrong diner.”

He turned on his heel before she could say another word, pushing his way outside. As he reached the stifling heat of the desert, the sand eddying around his ankles, he was reminded of his home planet, and somewhere between that thought and Clara’s blankness, he found himself falling apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	157. Chapter 157

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor requires Clara's assistance. Nothing new, really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _The Doctor battles an online Artificial Intelligence, maybe like Mitsuku (it’s a chatbot which you can talk to in real life) except when he's trying to trap her in the computer system she manages to break out into a robot body, like Ghost in the Shell type thing. He'd stop her but at what cost?_

“Doctor?”

Clara’s voice was faint as she called his name, and he wanted to cry out to her but he couldn’t. He couldn’t work out how his mouth worked, and it was only by some miracle that he remembered the general technique required to breathe. Somewhere at the back of his conscience niggled the quiet assertion that breathing was not something he _needed_ to do via his primary respiratory system, but his biologic impulses seemed somewhat scrambled, so he focused on inhaling and exhaling as well as he was able.

“Doctor?” 

Through his half-closed eyes, he saw Clara bending over him, and felt her hands on his cheeks.

“Doctor? Shit, did it take you over?”

He concentrated hard, and managed to mumble an assertion.

“What do you need?” there was worry in her tone, and he could tell that she was holding back tears in a valiant attempt to be brave. “God, please don’t change. Please. I can’t... please...”

“Won,’” he slurred, in an attempt to reassure her. “TAR’IS.” 

“The TARDIS?” she repeated. “Will being there help?”

“Mmf,” he concurred, and she nodded then, evidently glad to be able to do something of assistance. “Plea’.” 

Crouching, she slipped an arm around his shoulders and hefted him to his feet with a surprising amount of strength. 

“Right,” she said in a bright tone that he knew to be forced. “To the TARDIS it is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	158. Chapter 158

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amy needs information.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Clara or Amy (it's up to you who) tortures an alien to find out where they've taken the Doctor prisoner._

“Where is he?” Amy asked, scowling down at the alien lying prone on the concrete floor in front of her. There was a dark pool of what she assumed was blood seeping from the thing’s shoulder, but she found herself not caring about that as she focused on her goal: information.

“I will not tell you,” the alien breathed with defiance. “I will not betray my people like that.”

Amy put her foot on the wound, pressing down with just the barest hint of force, and the creature shrieked in agony.

“I may not have caused this injury,” Amy hissed. “But if you don’t tell me what I need to know, I will inflict a thousand times worse on you until you give me the information I need.”

“Please,” the alien whimpered. “Please... he’s in the catacombs, just help me, please...”

“Thank you,” Amy said smugly. “Be right back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	159. Chapter 159

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Different face, same software. Same 'owing the companion a debt of thanks,' too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From allnewtpir's prompt:
> 
> _Bill/Heather visit 13/Clara and both harmless flirting and expressions of gratitude over B/H removing the chronolock ensue._

“Shut the front door,” Bill gaped at the two women stood in front of her, unable to process the information that the taller blonde had provided seconds before. “No way. You have not had a glo-up that successful.”

“A what now?” the woman frowned, dusting down her coat and looking self-conscious. “Am I glowing? I shouldn’t be, I-”

“It’s metaphorical,” the cute brunette said softly, and Bill felt her heart melt just looking at the woman. “She means you’ve got hotter.”

“I was hot when I was all eyebrows and bluster!” the woman - no, the _Doctor,_ Bill’s brain corrected - protested. “Very hot.”

“Oh, very much so,” the brunette looked up at the Doctor with wide-eyed adoration. “And now you’re a woman, and you’re still very hot, and I still love you.”

“This is like... legit pretty cute, in a kind of sickening way,” Bill said before she could stop herself. “Doctor, why’d you never mention you had a girlfriend that cute?”

“Long story short, but I forgot.”

“You _forgot?”_ Bill looked aghast. “You forgot someone that attractive? Do you need your head examined?” 

“Hey,” Heather elbowed her in the side. “Be nice.”

“I’m always nice,” Bill sniffed, regretting her words only the very barest minimum. “But fine. Just know you’re very lucky.”

“Even more so thanks to Heather,” Clara beamed across at the shy, reserved girl stood by Bill’s side. “Thank you for removing the chronolock.”

“It’s all just atoms,” Heather said modestly, but she looked pleased. “You’re welcome though.”

“I don’t suppose...” the Doctor trailed off, looking embarrassed. “You two would like to get coffee somewhere? Somewhere space-y, that is, not Starbucks, unless it’s-”

“That would be nice,” Bill said quickly, linking arms with Heather. “We’d like that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	160. Chapter 160

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New Doctor, old friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Donna Noble meets Thirteen (pre-memory wipe) and doesn't believe her when she says she's the Doctor. Cue the showing off._

“No,” Donna said for the tenth time in under five minutes, shaking her head in an incredulous manner. “No way, you’re never my Doctor. He’s all skin and bone and suits and trainers. You’re like... alright looking. Also: not a man.”

“Things changed,” the Doctor explained patiently, trying not to smirk too overtly at the compliment. “Including me.”

“If you’re the Doctor,” Donna began, looking smug at her perceived challenge. “Prove it.”

The Doctor rolled her eyes, reaching into the pocket of her trenchcoat and extracting the sonic screwdriver, before pointing it at Donna’s coffee machine and pressing the button. There was a low whirring noise, then the machine burst into song, each note accompanied by a little puff of steam.

“Flipping ‘eck,” Donna muttered, her eyes going as wide as saucers. “Well, you’d best sit down. Girly chat to have.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	161. Chapter 161

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Same old, same old. Just Koschei and Theta in a prison cell together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _The Doctor and Master imprisoned together, probably the Eleventh Doctor and Simm's Master post-EOT pre-The Doctor Falls. They'd forget by the end of the drabble about this situation. They'd consider how they'd changed over the years and how to escape their cell, while bickering together._

“This is your fault.”

The Doctor repressed the urge to shudder at the slimy, snide tone of the person currently chained up beside him.

“Show your working,” he said wearily, the usual bounciness and enthusiasm gone from his voice as he stared glumly around their cell. “Or else that is not a valid conclusion for you to present as your final answer.”

“It’s valid if I say it is,” the speaker snapped, and the Doctor slid his eyes right, taking in the silhouette of his old nemesis and trying not to roll his eyes too overtly at the old, familiar arrogance. “If you hadn’t blundered in with your chin and your bowtie and your ludicrous hyperactivity, I would be long gone, and you would be long dead.”

“In light of your workings, I would deduce that this is actually an almighty improvement on your hypothesised version of events,” the Doctor muttered. “At least this way, I’m alive.”

“Sadly.”

“Shut up, Koschei.”

“Oooh, are we going all old-school now? Fine, _Thete._ I’d like you to be dead. There.”

“No you wouldn’t,” the Doctor argued. “If I was dead, you’d have much less fun.”

“You’d be less annoying if you were dead.”

“Yeah?” the Doctor sighed. “Well, so would you. Now, are you going to keep whining, or are you going to outline your escape plan?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	162. Chapter 162

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Missy is addicted to this, and that's where the problem lies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Missy deals with addiction/withdrawal symptoms? Probably set during the vault years if you could?_

She didn’t know what was wrong with her. Not at first, anyway. When it first began, and her skin started to burn and her blood turned to knives in her veins, all she knew was that she was certain of her impending regeneration. Convinced that she would be unable to survive this hell, she curled in on herself in the wide, luxurious bed that Thete had thoughtfully provided for her, and resigned herself to sweating and shaking and swearing herself to death.

When he found her, an age later, he had been the one to swear. His hands had been cool on her forehead as he murmured her name, but she could hardly form a coherent thought, much less anything provocative or smutty about the situation at hand. She understood it by then of course. She’d realised what was lacking. 

“Missy?” he said softly, rolling her onto her back and unbuttoning the collar of her blouse so that she could catch her breath. “Missy, this is... this is not good.”

“No kidding,” she rasped, blinking hard and attempting to focus on his face. “Let me die. Please. Just let me...”

“No,” he whispered, his voice cracked, and he pressed a kiss to her forehead before smoothing the duvet down around her. “I’ll be back, OK? I’ll be back with something to help.”

“No,” she repeated, reaching for him, but he was already gone.

* * *

When he returned, he wasn’t alone. The girl was with him - the one with all the hair, the Not-Clara one. She’d had time to think about that, as she lay in bed violently trembling and clawing at her own skin, stewing in her own thoughts. Clara. How tragically that had ended, and how broken it had left him - even subconsciously.

“What’s wrong with her?” the girl - whatever her name was - asked in a whisper. “Is it drugs?”

“Sort of,” the Doctor replied, approaching the bed and sitting beside her. “Her body and her brain are wired differently, Bill. For her, doing bad things produces the same chemical response that good things elicit for us.” 

“So... dopamine?”

“Exactly. No evilness means no dopamine. And no dopamine means...” 

Missy felt a sharp pain in the crook of her arm, and then a blissful coolness spreading through her. She took a deep, shuddering breath, a smile passing over her features, and with that she fell asleep for the first time in days.

* * *

She had no idea how long she slept for, but when she woke up he was curled up in bed beside her, wide awake and watchful.

“Hey,” she breathed, scooting fractionally closer to him and noticing with satisfaction that he didn’t edge away. “What did you give me?”

“Synthetic dopamine. Enough to stop the withdrawal symptoms for now, but you might need regular doses of it until your body starts producing it in the right situations.”

“Or until you let me out of here.”

“We both know that isn’t going to happen,” he said gently. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she mumbled, resting her head on his chest and listening to the reassuring double beat of his hearts. “Just... don’t leave me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	163. Chapter 163

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He may be a Doctor, but he's also the Master of Time. Especially when it comes to Clara.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From allnewtpir's prompt:
> 
> _At the end of "Girl Who Died". 12 tells Clara about the other medkit and says it's for Ashildr. Clara suspects otherwise and he admits it's actually for her. She gets why he would and loves him for it, but tells him if she goes, she goes and not for him to try and bring her back._

“No,” Clara said softly, looking over at the Doctor as he turned the small device over and over in his palm. “No, Doctor. We can’t. You can’t.”

“I’m the last of my people. Time is mine to control and if I want to use this to bend it to my will with regard to your life, then I can and I will.”

“No, you won’t,” she said again, more firmly this time - a hint of her teacher voice creeping into her tone as she arranged her expression into a careful, stern frown. “I refuse to let you.”

“Why? You’d be with me forever. You’d never have to worry about getting hurt, or ill, or anything like that. We could keep running... we’d never have to stop.”

“I couldn’t watch everyone I love die,” Clara confessed, her voice little more than a whisper, and she felt guilty for having to say the words out loud. “I’ve seen what it’s done to you. I’ve seen who you’ve become after witnessing that much death, and I couldn’t stand to have that happen to me.”

“I can’t watch you die, Clara!”

“What if I told you I wanted to?” Clara admitted, looking him in the eye then and seeing the confusion and blind incomprehension in his gaze. “What if I said that was what I wanted, and that was why I kept taking stupid risks?”

“But why would you...” he stammered. “We have so much, Clara. You have so much to live for and to do and to see and...”

“I’m tired, Doctor,” she shrugged a little, her eyes burning with tears. “I’m tired of being tired and sad and alone, and some days I think it might be better to not be alive at all.”

“You’re not alone,” he said tremulously, stepping closer and wrapping her in his arms. “As long as I am breathing, you are not alone.”

“I know,” she breathed, leaning her head against his chest. “Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	164. Chapter 164

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's only one rule about Missy, and Nardole manages to break it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _I'd like a little interaction between Missy and Nardole in the Vault, because canon lacks it. So, here's my request: "Being the Master's jailor was like babysitting a friend's cat: she was angry, naughty and a sometimes a little bit endearing."_

“You,” her voice was soft and impossibly alluring. The Doctor had warned him about that; about how she could hypnotise people with a carefully purred word and a smile. “Chubby robot one. Come here.”

“I’m not supposed to approach you,” he mumbled, edging around the outside perimeter of the vault and studiously avoiding looking at her. “You’re dangerous.”

“Did Thete tell you that?”

“Did who tell me what?”

“Thete. Tall. Gangly. Scottish. A tiny bit sexy.”

“I... urm... why do you call him that?”

“Oh, me and him go way back. Good ol’ Theta Sigma, the bane of the Prydonian Academy back in his day. He burned all his eyebrows off once; ended up looking a bit like you, only less round. Well. I say _he_ burned them off. I might have been a teensy bit... involved.”

He didn’t want to engage with her, and he knew he shouldn’t. But somehow, the prospect of being regaled with amusing tales about the Doctor’s past seemed impossibly appealing, and he looked over at her then.

Mistake.

* * *

“Missy,” the Doctor sighed in exasperation as he scowled at the unconscious-slash-deactivated body of his butler. “I’ve warned you before about attacking him.”

“It wasn’t my fault. He looked at me.”

“And why did he do that?”

“I don’t know,” her voice was light and innocent, and he made the same fatal mistake as Nardole had: he looked at her. “Maybe I’m just too sexy for you both.”

“Mm,” he hummed, disconcerted to find her pupils blown with desire, and she stepped closer, putting one hand on his chest. “Missy...”

“Yes?” she murmured, unbuttoning his shirt with one hand and putting the other on the back of his neck. “Come on, he’s going to be unconscious for _hours_ while those silly little circuits reboot...”

The Doctor groaned, and resigned himself to the inevitable.

On the floor, a still-rebooting Nardole switched off his auditory input.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	165. Chapter 165

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor vs. Junior Pudding Brains.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _The Doctor recalls a time when he tutored the kids in Clara's class when she got hungover on alien wine._

"Right,” he began, looking around the room at the assembled junior pudding brains and looking as stern as he could possibly manage. Which was fairly. “Today we will be studying Macbeth-”

A girl near the back, one he dimly recognised as being part of the Bunghole Defence Squad, raised her hand, and he pointed at her to indicate she should speak. “But we’re doing Hamlet with Miss Oswald.”

“Well, today you’re doing Macbeth, because it’s a good, Scottish play, and I’m a good, Scottish teacher. Or... something.”

There were general snickers from the teenagers, and he scowled around at them and felt a distinct sense of smugness as they fell silent.

“I am an exceptional teacher, thank you very much. Now, phones away, unless you’re googling the history of Scotland and Good King Duncan, and believe me I will be confiscating offending items and checking your browser history.”

“You can’t do that,” one very red-faced boy near the front spluttered, but the Doctor only raised his eyebrows.

“Watch me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	166. Chapter 166

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor needs one thing...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _The Doctor has a panic attack and goes completely non-verbal and can’t speak so Bill tries to get his breathing back to normal and asks him what he would like and he ends up either writing or drawing Clara somehow and remembers her smile._

Bill had no idea how to deal with the situation at hand. The Doctor was sat in his desk chair, with his knees drawn up to his chest and his hands clutching his thighs so hard his knuckles were white. He was rocking backwards and forwards almost imperceptibly as he struggled for breath like a drowning man, and Bill’s heart lurched.

“Doctor?” she asked helplessly, laying a hand on his arm, and he barely even acknowledged the physical contact. “Doctor, what can I do?”

She knew it was a panic attack. She wasn’t completely oblivious; she’d seen them before and experienced enough to recognise the signs. She just wasn’t entirely sure how one dealt with a panic attack when the sufferer was an ancient alien from Gallifrey.

“What do you need?” she asked, and he began to shake, mumbling something in between hyperventilating. Leaning closer, Bill could just about make out one word, repeated over and over:

“Clara.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	167. Chapter 167

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor takes up a new hobby.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From [Alex's](http://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSaddleman/pseuds/TheSaddleman) prompt:
> 
> _Twelve decides to embrace his Scottishness and give up the guitar for the bagpipes. Clara is NOT amused..._

“What,” Clara asked, dumping her satchel on the console room floor and scowling almightily at the item which had drawn her wrath. “The ever living fuck is that?” She gestured towards the forlorn looking pile of tartan fabric and sticks that were slung over one of the railings, feeling a sneaking suspicion but sincerely hoping she was wrong.

From across the console, the Doctor shuffled awkwardly and cast his gaze down at his hands. “My bagpipes,” he mumbled, flushing a deep shade of maroon that very nearly matched his jacket. “They-”

“Your what now?” Clara asked in a low, dangerous tone. 

“My bagpipes,” he said more loudly, glancing up at her with an eager, excited grin that quickly faded when he caught sight of her expression. “I’ve ah... I’ve decided to embrace my Scottish heritage.”

“You don’t have Scottish heritage, you’re from Gallifrey.”

“But they’re _cool.”_

“No,” Clara snapped. “They’re annoying. If you even so much as _think_ about playing them when I am on or near the TARDIS, I will take them and I will tear a hole in them that is the approximate size of Scotland.”

“That’s not very-” he caught her glare. “Yes. OK. Understood, boss.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	168. Chapter 168

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Girl Who Waited, the Impossible Girl, and the Last Centurion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Amy and Clara meeting, Clara being happy to meet the woman made of legs but then they talk about the Doctor, before Clara invites Amy and Rory to travel with her and Ashildr for a bit?_

“You know,” Clara leaned over the bar, stirring her milkshake with a straw as she surveyed the auburn-haired woman in front of her. “I’d seen your picture and I anticipated you being made of legs, but not quite... _this_ made of legs. You’re like... an actual model. It’s actually kind of sickening.”

“I _was_ an actual model for a while,” Amy shrugged, sipping at her lemonade with a surprisingly shy smile. “Back in our old life.”

“I remember,” Clara smiled. “‘For the girl who’s tired of waiting.’ Speaking of which, _I_ was getting tired of waiting for you two to show up.”

From beside Amy, Rory looked a tad embarrassed, staring down at his Coke as Amy laughed. “Really?” she asked. “Why, did you have something in mind?”

“Just an invitation,” Clara tried and failed to appear nonchalant. “To travel with me for a while. The nose and the legs. What do you say?”

Amy’s head snapped up then, and she affixed Clara with a curious expression that she couldn’t quite read. “How did you... never mind. Rory, what do you think?”

“Travelling would be... nice,” he said after a moment’s thought, finally looking up at Clara and smiling. “Thank you.”

“Well then,” Amy grinned. “Geronimo.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	169. Chapter 169

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amy has questions for her boss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From nightmanatee's prompt:
> 
> _Amy works as a waitress in Clara's diner. And one day she realises that it is not just a diner._

“Clara?” Amy asked one afternoon, perching on a stool in the empty diner and affixing her boss with a pointed look. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” Clara said as brightly as she was able. “What’s up?”

“I need you to be completely 100% honest with me.”

“Right...” Clara felt a sinking feeling in her stomach, already knowing what Amy was going to ask and dreading having to answer, but asking nonetheless: “About?”

“This isn’t just a diner, is it?” 

Clara gave an awkward little laugh that sounded unconvincing even to herself. “Why would you say that?”

“Because when I arrived for work this morning, it wasn’t here. And then it materialised while making a distinctly TARDIS-like noise. Explain.”

“Ah,” Clara cleared her throat a little. “I’ll explain but... let me make you a milkshake first. I feel like you’re going to need it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	170. Chapter 170

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amy Pond: model, companion, rescuer... flirt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Could you write some Amy/Oswin?_

“Hello, the legs.”

Amy couldn’t tell at first where the voice was coming from, but it sounded warm and pleasant and if she wasn’t very much mistaken, just a touch flirty. Well, any distractions were welcome at this point; if she was going to die on a planet populated by insane Daleks, she could die while flirting, and since Rory was unavailable-slash-missing-slash-possibly-dead, and on the verge of leaving her anyway, then this mystery woman and her disembodied voice would have to do.

“You know, it would be nice if I could see you,” she said, addressing the general space in front of her in lieu of an actual person to address. “Given that you’re admiring my legs.”

“Legs, hair, eyes... boobs,” the stranger chuckled. “Can I help it that you’re extremely attractive? No, I cannot.”

Amy couldn’t help it. She grinned, lowering her voice in a conspiratorial manner. “Since I’m here to rescue you, do you reckon I could have a grateful snog when we get to you?” she chanced.

“I’ve never had a rescue party sent after me before, especially not one with so many attractive members,” the voice mused. “I’m sure it could be arranged, although I might be a little out of practice.”

“Then a refresher course is definitely in order.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	171. Chapter 171

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Master invokes the fury of a Time Lord.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _After what he's done to Bill, Simm!Master experiences the fury of a Time Lord from 11._

“She is part of my future,” the Doctor began in a low, dangerous tone, advancing on the man in front of him with enough fury to cause his old enemy to recoil. “I haven’t met her yet, but if she is one of my friends then you have crossed a line, Koschei. You have harmed someone I care about, and do you know what happens when people do that?”

“It was just...” the Master began, looking wrong-footed by the anger radiating from the tall, gangly man with a bow-tie, who looked so unassuming yet was burning with loathing for him in that instant. “You wouldn’t...”

“I would suggest you run,” the Doctor told him with a snarl. “I’ll be generous. I’ll give you a head start. And then I will come after you, do you understand me?” 

“I...”

“Do. You. Understand. Me?”

“Yes,” the Master nodded emphatically, backing away towards his TARDIS. “Yes, I do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	172. Chapter 172

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor makes a request of Bonnie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Do you think you could do one for Bonnie and the Doctor getting together?_

“So,” the Doctor cleared his throat, looking down at the bespectacled woman sat across the table from him in Costa Coffee and fighting the urge to ask her to change form then and there. Asking a Zygon to shift in public was a bad idea, and he struggled to keep that in mind. “Would you maybe... like to?”

“Date you?” Bonnie took a sip from her coffee and affixed him with a look that - despite being in her Osgood form - was absolutely, uniquely Clara. “Sure.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really,” she shrugged nonchalantly. “What have I got to lose?”

“I don’t...”

“It’s not like I’m inundated with offers,” she raised an eyebrow. “Or like I’m popular in any respect.”

“I’m sorry,” he sighed. “Humans can be...”

“They’re within their rights,” she said at once. “I mean, after what happened. Just... yeah.”

“Would it be weird for you?” he asked. “Being... _her_ again?”

“Not really,” she wrinkled her nose. “People seemed to acquiesce to her wishes more willingly than they do for this body. People tend to assume Osgood is hopelessly incompetent.” 

Reaching over, he took her hand and dropped his gaze to the table, gratitude surging through him. There was a soft _thwick_ noise, and he flicked his eyes back up to find himself staring at the double of Clara Oswald, her expression amused as she took in his startled look.

“Relax,” she assured him. “It’s not even busy in here. It’s fine. Now. Come on, space man. I want to see the universe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	173. Chapter 173

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vastra is maddeningly perceptive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From allnewtpir's prompt:
> 
> _We're at the end of "The Crimson Horror". 11 asks Vastra for advice about his feelings for Clara, admitting he has them, but after Rose is afraid to act on them._

“Why are you looking at her like that?” Vastra asked in a low, playful tone that the Doctor was was entirely mistrustful of. Why must she be so perceptive about his life? Why must she notice the kind of things that others were wont to overlook?

“Look at who like what?” he asked, trying to downplay the situation and adopt a jovial, playful tone. “I’m not looking at anyone like anything. What an absurd idea. Why would I be? I don’t look at things. Not ever. I-”

“You’re looking at Clara,” Vastra noted. “Like she’s the centre of the universe. it has been a long time since I last saw an expression like that upon your face, my old friend.”

“She’s... something,” the Doctor admitted, gesturing vaguely with his hands. “She truly is something. A mystery. An enigma. A puzzle.”

“Something more, I feel.”

He sighed. “She’s clever, and she’s funny, and she’s...” he fumbled for the right description. “A match for me. In every sense.” 

“So why do you hesitate?”

“After the last time, would you not do the same?”

“Professor Song would have wanted you to be happy.”

“No,” he ran his hand through his hair. “No, not her... I meant Rose. After how that ended... how do I allow myself to love someone of an infinite lifespan? How do I voluntarily submit to that much pain?”

“But how much pain do you endure by keeping her at arm’s length?” Vastra asked with a wise smile, and his shoulders slumped.

“Must you always be so... deep?”

“When you’re as old as I am, you learn some things.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	174. Chapter 174

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara's gran brings out the obligatory embarrassing baby photos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From xxworldenoughandtimexx's prompt:
> 
> _Can you do Twelve looking at baby and teenage photos of Clara, possibly from one of Clara's family members? And her being embarrassed? Or/and Clara looking at Twelve's Gallifreyan teenage photos?_

“No,” the Doctor said in disbelief, reaching for the photo that Clara’s gran was holding out and snatching it before Clara could intervene. “That isn’t you.”

Clara squinted over at the photograph of thirteen-year-old her, all brassy-blonde hair and neon clothing, and felt a surge of embarrassment. “Urm, no,” she lied, blushing furiously. “That’s-”

“Don’t be daft, love,” her grandmother said sternly. “That’s our Clara, alright. She dyed her hair herself, bless her, at a pal’s house. Came home from a sleepover like that, and her mother went spare. Said that she’d ruined her hair for good.”

“I mean, it’s much nicer dark,” the Doctor said with surprising sincerity, and she reached over and took his hand before she could think twice. “But you were adorable. Still are.”

“Thanks,” she murmured, her cheeks burning once again, but this time it was with pleased surprise. “You’re sweet sometimes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	175. Chapter 175

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor does dinner dates.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Bonnie and the Doctor on their date, potential argument and maybe Twelve trying too hard to make it work?_

“This is,” Bonnie tilted her glass, watching the red liquid inside swill slowly from side to side as she did so. “Nice.”

“The wine?”

“No, not the wine,” she looked past her drink, making eye contact with him and looking very pointedly from him, to their dinner plates, to her drink, and back to him. “ _This_. Didn’t have you down as the kind of man who did dinner dates.”

“I’m full of surprises.”

“I see that,” she smirked a little, taking a sip of wine and watching the effect her smirk had on him. He looked a little uncomfortable, shuffling in his seat, and she knew men well enough to know that she was turning him on. “Sorry, am I... _bothering_ you?”

“No,” he mumbled, clearing his throat and adopting an unconvincingly neutral tone. “Not at all.” 

“Sure?”

“I said no,” he snapped, and she jumped, her hand jolting and the liquid in her glass spilling over the white tablecloth. “Sorry. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” she lied, her heart hammering in her chest and her mouth feeling abruptly dry. “It’s alright.”

“This is just... new. And... I’m sorry. Shit, I’m sorry. Let me get you another drink and we can sit on the sofa and watch terrible shows on Netflix.” 

“That would be...” she paused for a moment, considering the offer. “Wonderful, actually.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	176. Chapter 176

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Missy and the Master enjoy a road trip together. "Enjoy" being a relative term.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _The Master and Missy on a road trip._

“For Rassilon’s sake,” Missy muttered, side-eyeing her previous incarnation and scowling as he squinted at his own reflection in the wing mirror. “Could you stop applying your eyeliner for five minutes and actually check the map?”

“We wouldn’t need a map if your TARDIS hadn’t messed up and deposited us in this backwards little decade. Otherwise we could’ve had a satnav,” he snarled, not letting up in his careful application of his eye makeup. She didn’t remember being that vain - but then again, she didn’t remember a lot about being him in general. At least not beyond the burning anger, or the drums, or the insanity. “You’re worse than Thete.”

“Rude.”

“Not rude, factual.”

“Still rude,” Missy snapped. “It wasn’t my fault my TARDIS’s mainframe short-circuited due to us being together.”

“Well, it wasn’t mine either.”

“This trip was your idea!”

“It was not!”

Missy’s glare deepened, and she waited until her male counterpart was mid-eyeliner-reapplication before yanking the wheel sharply to the right and swerving their car, enjoying his yelp of surprise as he drew a kohl line across his face. “Whoops,” she said sweetly. “My bad.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	177. Chapter 177

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor is in love, and Vastra is amused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From allnewtpir's prompt:
> 
> _12 talking to Vastra about how he and Clara are mad for each other._

“Clara is just...” the Doctor let out a contented little sigh, and Vastra raised... well, not her eyebrows, as she didn’t technically have any, but some of the muscles in the vicinity of what would have been her eyebrows if she had them. “Wonderful. Stop looking at me like that.”

“I’m not looking at you like anything,” Vastra purred, giving a delicate little cough and trying unsuccessfully to conceal the smirk that was currently occupying her face. “This is how I look at you.”

“Liar, you haven’t looked at me like that in centuries.”

“You haven’t been this in love in centuries.”

“I know,” he broke into a soppy grin again. “Isn’t it great?”

“You’re like a whole new man.”

“Can you please stop looking at me like that, though? You look rather like you’re considering how I might be your next meal.”

“I would never eat you, Doctor. You’d be terribly stringy, and all that bitterness and anger would make the meat almost unpalatable.”

“Hilarious,” he rolled his eyes. “Can we go back to talking about Clara, please?”

“You’ve been talking about Clara for three ‘ours,” Jenny observed, backing into the room with an enormous tea tray. “And my opinion’s this: she’s very pretty.”

Vastra hissed.

“You know what she means,” the Doctor assured her, reaching over and patting her scaly hand. “Besides, Jenny’s your wife.”

“Ah yes,” Vastra’s smirk intensified. “Tell us, Doctor... when are you thinking of popping the question?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	178. Chapter 178

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor is tormented by an apparition with his best enemy's voice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _The Doctor and Missy share a somewhat out of body experience involving an alien substance that almost ends with the Doctor trapped in the vault and Missy free while her voice is constantly mocking the Doctor for screwing up. Set in the early vault days._

“Thete.”

Missy’s voice was soft and insidious in his ears in a way that was sickeningly true to life. He knew full well that she was a hypnotist, but there was something about the way she was saying his name this time that seemed... mocking. She could - and did - play him like a fiddle, and the hint of resentment that underpinned her tone was not a usual feature of her words towards him.

“It’s your fault, Thete. You messed up. You let the monsters take me to the Untempered Schism. You let them use me as a way out. You let them abuse me, and hurt me, and break me. It was you, Thete. It was all you.”

“No!” he called out, the word being ripped from his chest against his will. “No, I tried to save you!”

“I just wanted you to be my friend.” 

He staggered through the darkness, screaming with each step he took. “Please!” he begged the unseen voice. “Please, let me go!”

There was a thunderous crack and then a flash of blinding light, and he stumbled forwards into his old friend’s arms. He pushed her away, hard enough to make her stumble, before his senses righted themselves and he lunged for her, wrapping his arms around her and burying his face in her neck. “Missy,” he sobbed, and to his surprise she returned the embrace. “Missy, what was that?”

“I don’t know,” she said in a tremulous voice, stroking his curls with a trembling hand. “But whatever it was, you’re safe now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	179. Chapter 179

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Eyebrows and the Girl Who Waited. It's a shame she's only an illusion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _"Amelia Pond, you're the trap. And I fell for it!" The dream crab didn't attack Clara instead it attacked the Doctor. He tries to escape knowing he's trapped but Amy is there and pulls him back to stay admiring the Scottish accent._

“You’re Scottish,” Amy blinked at him for a moment, an unreadable expression playing over her features, and he frowned as he considered what she might be about to say. “You’re... Glaswegian.”

He raised his eyebrows, unsure what she was getting at. “You’re Invernessian. Your point?”

Amy beamed suddenly, her whole face lighting up. “It’s... excellent. No more of that English rubbish, then?”

The Doctor grinned, knowing that this version of Amy was only a manifestation of his own psyche but not quite caring. “Nah. Had enough of being all young and dashing and English. This is much more fun; I can complain about things now.”

“You complained about things before,” Amy noted, arching an eyebrow in bemusement. “A lot.”

“I sound less whiny now,” he protested. “There’s more gravitas there when I complain. But it’s nice to know you approve.”

“You know I’m only in your head, don’t you?”

“I do,” he sighed, knowing he had to face up to the reality of the situation. “I’m dying, aren’t I?”

“You are, yes,” Amy looked sad. “And you can’t do that. The planet needs you. Hell, the whole universe needs you.”

“And Clara needs me.”

“She does.”

“Now I know you’re not real,” the Doctor snorted. “The real you would’ve been incensed to know she had a successor.”

“Doctor,” Amy said gently. “Never mind me. Save yourself.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	180. Chapter 180

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor. Criminal, weirdo, and full-time vigilante.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _The Doctor lives in a council estate in London in a rough part of the city, the part people don't normally see. He lives in an old flat, well living there, but not strictly legally, the door is blue with graffiti of "Bad Wolf" on it and instead of a number there is a word TARDIS. This man is considered something of a criminal on the streets by local authorities, but he is also known as the monster hunter. He has a friend who is a school teacher who helps him but has to draw the line when things get risky._

“Doctor,” Clara called, shoving open the perpetually-unlocked door and stepping over the threshold with the same slight sense of apprehension she always felt when entering his flat. “You in? I brought you some groceries, I know what you’re like with living off Jelly Babies.” 

She headed towards the lounge, sidling inside with caution lest she take the Doctor by surprise and find herself pinned against the wall by the irate Glaswegian as she had the first time she’d done this. Once she was in the deceptively large room, she sighed in frustration as she found an unsavoury looking bloke tied to a chair, the Doctor circling him with a scowl and tapping a baseball bat against his leg. Clara knew it was just for show - he’d never actually _use_ it - but the effect was suitably terrifying all the same.

“Doctor,” she said wearily. “What have I said about doing this?”

“He was trying to abduct a Year Eight from outside St Edward’s. Wanted her to get in his car.”

“Oh,” Clara’s expression changed in an instant. “In which case... do carry on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	181. Chapter 181

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For an alien who is an expert on space, the Doctor is not so spatially aware.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt: 
> 
> _Clara scolding Twelve for spilling tea on a carpet. Twelve apologises later._

“I’m sorry,” he muttered for the tenth time, hanging his head and looking so genuinely contrite that Clara paused in her ongoing berating of the Time Lord and affixed him with a look of sympathy. “I didn’t mean to, I’m just not... I don’t know, I’m not very spatially coordinated today and I will buy you a new carpet to make up for this. Or get you money for a new one, I know you get stressy when I buy you things, and oh god, please don’t start yelling at me again, I’m not trying to be rude or anything, I just-”

“Doctor,” she said quietly, her anger dissipating in an instant as she reached over and took his hand, giving it an apologetic little squeeze. “It’s alright. I’m sorry for shouting. You don’t need to get me a new carpet, this one is fixable. It was just an accident, that’s all.”

“You were angry a minute ago.”

“I know,” she smiled at him in an attempt to show how not-angry she now was. “I’m sorry I shouted at you, that was wrong of me.” 

“I’m sorry for spilling tea. Shall I make another cup?”

“That would be nice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	182. Chapter 182

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life imitates the virtual.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From xxworldenoughandtimexx's prompt:
> 
> _Clara comes back from a long day at school and finds the Doctor (12) in her flat playing a game on his VR headset, kissing involved and uber cuteness please._

Clara leant in the doorway of the lounge, watching as the Doctor turned his head from side to side and chewed his lip nervously. He was entirely unaware of her presence due to the preposterously large VR headset currently strapped to his face, and thus she was free to stare at him without fear of him noticing and turning maroon.

“You look very pretty, Clara,” he said with more confidence than she would’ve expected, and it took her a moment to realise that he couldn’t see her in all her sweaty post-taekwondo glory, but was in fact addressing... well, a VR version of her. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Slightly strange, but in a good way. Probably. “Have you done something with your hair?”

She couldn’t help it, though - he sounded so incredibly, adorably sincere in his complimenting of virtual-her that she crossed the room to him and pressed a kiss to his cheek, then his jaw, and then, in a fit of boldness, his lips. 

“Goodness,” he said after a moment. “You’re very realistic.”

She yanked the headset off him and gave him a fond look. “That’d be because I _am_ real, you prat.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	183. Chapter 183

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Impossible Girl and the reformed (ish) Time Lady.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Clara visits Missy in the vault without the Doctor's knowledge? I'd like to see them a bit flirty, but feel free to take it any direction you want._

“I was wondering when you’d pop by,” Missy purred, leaning back against the piano and eyeing the new arrival to the vault with a smirk. “Hello, puppy.”

“Oh, like you’re not pleased to see me,” Clara shot back, but her tone was fond. “Aren’t you bored in here?”

“Oh, it’s not so bad. I’ve got my music and I’ve got Thete and sometimes I’ve got the baldy one or the hopeless lesbian, so I keep myself entertained. It’d be much more interesting if there was the odd spot of homicide to engage in, but you can’t win them all, I suppose.”

“I thought you were in here to be cured of your homicidal tendencies.”

“Let a bad girl have her indulgences, dearie,” Missy licked her lips. “And yes, you do count as one of those.”

“Murdering me might be difficult,” Clara said coolly. “Given the immortality thing.” 

“It wasn’t murder I had in mind.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	184. Chapter 184

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An idiot on a tank.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _What was going through Clara's head in The Magician's Apprentice when the Doctor came in on the tank and started playing his guitar?_

“Oh, my god,” Clara breathed, looking down at the medieval arena and trying to resist the urge to smirk or scowl or swear. After all the speeches the Doctor had given her about anachronisms, about not using her iPhone in front of Jane Austen, about not causing any ripples in the surface of time, here he was riding a tank. And not only riding a tank...

“For Rassilon’s _sake_ ,” Missy muttered beside her, massaging her temples with her fingertips. “Will that man ever learn?” 

He was playing an electric guitar. Not badly, but still... not entirely historically accurately. Clara couldn’t help it. She started to laugh.

“I think we might need to intervene.”

“You know, puppy,” Missy grimaced. “That’s one of the only things you’ve ever said that I’ve agreed with.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	185. Chapter 185

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Claras collide...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Present Clara comes home and sees future Clara and future 12th Doctor kissing and being so cute._

Alright, so there were always going to be blips in the fabric of time. Wibbly wobbly timey wimey, after all. When you fly around in a TARDIS for long enough, there was always going to be the occasional error, and this was apparently one such incident.

Her future self was stood in the middle of her lounge, her arms wrapped firmly around the Doctor’s waist and her lips pressed against his own in an unrelenting snog that had been ongoing for the last five minutes. Present-Clara, sick of being ignored, cleared her throat, and the two of them broke apart, caught sight of her, and turned an astounding shade of maroon in perfect synchronicity.

“Hello,” she said in bemusement. “I think you’ve got your dates mixed up.”

“Ah,” the Doctor stammered, his blush darkening. “Yes. Urm. We. Ah. Might do. Come along, Clara. My Clara. This Clara. Not-You Clara.”

He vanished off in the direction of what she assumed was the TARDIS, leaving the two women alone together.

“So,” Present-Clara arched an eyebrow. “How long do I have to wait?”

“Three months, two weeks, one day, and about...” Future-Clara checked her watch. “Four hours. Take him by surprise. Trust me.”

She tipped her younger self a wink and then followed after the Doctor, leaving Clara alone. Sinking down on the sofa, she fished her diary out of her bag and thumbed through it to the date her future self had indicated.

Which was, because that was how her life worked, Valentine’s Day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	186. Chapter 186

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Koschei has a problem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _The Master has to stop someone else taking over the world, a mysterious enemy who has reality bending powers. Of course he isn't happy to see the world being taken over when he wants to do it. Is the Doctor around or is he missing? Maybe the Master doesn't care, after all he's got bigger problems._

“For God sake,” the Master groaned, leaning back in his chair and putting his feet up on the table in front of him as he spoke into the sleek comms device held against his ear. “Please, Thete.” 

“I’m sorry,” the Doctor said coolly from the other end of the line. “I don’t think I quite understand you. You want me to come and save the planet from this unknown force so that you can take it over instead?”

“Yes. What’s difficult about that?”

“You’re a homicidal lunatic with borderline genocidal tendencies,” the Doctor reminded him. “How about that?”

“Ever since you became a bloody woman you’ve been absolutely no fun at all.”

“Oh yeah, because clearly when I was a bloke I’d have been game for this little plan.” 

“...go away,” the Master snapped, hanging up on the call. He’d just have to sort this out himself. Somehow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	187. Chapter 187

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Master meets Jenny.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _The Master meets Jenny (the Doctor's daughter)._

“Well, aren’t you sickeningly perky?” the Master muttered, scowling across the table at the ludicrously upbeat blonde girl sat opposite him, who was practically vibrating with excitement for reasons he didn’t quite understand. “Your enthusiasm is giving me a headache, can you please desist? People aren’t usually this pleased to see me, and frankly it’s disconcerting.”

“You know my dad, don’t you?” the girl asked brightly, unbothered by his tone. “You’re one of his people.”

“Your _dad_?” 

“Yeah, my dad. Tall. Long coat. Pacifism complex. Likes running.” 

“You...” he was, for once, speechless. “That’s... he... you... well... urm... wow. I suppose your mother was that pet human he had for a while?”

“Don’t have a mother,” she shrugged. “Genetic transfer.”

“So you’re...” he blinked. “Pure Gallifreyan?”

“That’s me.”

“Well,” he grinned then, showing his teeth, but she didn’t flinch away. “Now, the stories I can tell you about your father...” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	188. Chapter 188

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ten meets Twelve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _The Twelfth Doctor finds himself in a gladiator arena, something familiar about it but he isn't sure. Until the door opens, he finds himself against a more youthful man, one with spikey hair and a long coat. He has to fight himself; his tenth incarnation._

“Oh, for god’s sake,” he muttered, looking across the arena at the idiotic looking younger man wearing a preposterously long coat and impractical trainers who had just been shoved into his general vicinity. “Not _him_.”

“You say that like you know me,” the younger man sidled closer, as though wary of a surprise attack. “Sorry. I’m the Doctor. Time traveller. Things happen to me in the wrong order a lot. Have we met?”

“You could say that.” 

“Ooh, a cryptic one,” his younger self looked somewhat gleeful at the prospect. “Friend or foe?” 

“Try neither.”

“Lover?” 

“Nope.”

“Acquaintance?” 

“Try again, laddie.”

“Urm...”

The Doctor, bored of answering questions, whipped out the sonic and scanned his younger counterpart summarily. 

“Ah,” Sandshoes said. “Right. And I have to fight you?”

“So it would seem.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	189. Chapter 189

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is it fate?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From allnewtpir's prompt:
> 
> _Twelve and Clara discuss the Hybrid prophecy, realise it's about them, and 12 questions whether his love for Clara is of his own will, or if it's the will of outside forces._

The question, as ever, haunted him. 

Did he love her because she was Clara? Did he love her because of the many thousands of things she did and said that made her uniquely her? The way she would squeeze his hand at the moment he always most needed it. The way her single heart felt as it beat against his chest when she embraced him. The way she said his name, those two syllables so imbibed with hope and aching optimism that it broke his heart to consider ever having to let her down.

Or did he love her because the universe planned for it to be so? Did their love come into being because a thousand galaxies and solar systems and planets aligned for one fraction of a second, long enough for her to be born and to leap into his time stream and shatter herself through his lives, writing herself into his story? She had been his enigma and now she was his lover, but had that come to be because of some higher power he did not like to name? He entertained no notions of gods or deities, yet with Clara there seemed to be some pre-ordained plan for them that had brought them together. 

She knew, of course. She knew when he was dwelling on this, and she would draw him into her arms and whisper; words of another, but words which seemed to have been written for them.

_“So, I love you because the entire universe conspired to help me find you.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The quote at the end is from The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho.
> 
> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	190. Chapter 190

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara isn't happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Clara getting jealous of Missy snogging Twelve in Dark Water._

_Excuse me,_ Clara thought to herself with consternation.  _She’s got some nerve. Like I haven’t been thinking about doing that for the last three years, and then this bitch just swoops in and does it within thirty seconds of meeting him._

The Doctor, to his credit, looked somewhat traumatised by the entire affair. It was probably for the best that Clara hadn’t taken it upon herself to snog the living daylights out of him, but that didn’t stop her from essentially being entirely pissed off about it.

 _OK,_ Clara thought with some considerable irritation. _Let him up for air now before he faints. Wait, does he need air? Maybe he doesn’t. Maybe he breathes in some weird... I don’t know, space-way._

This thought was shortly followed by another stab of irritation, and she resigned herself to being green-eyed from afar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	191. Chapter 191

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TARDIS blue? Not today...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Why is the TARDIS blue, Bill asks? Simple question, the Doctor thinks, until it changes to red one day._

“Urm,” Bill asked in amusement, looking ahead of them and narrowing her eyes in the half-light. “You doing Comic Relief this year or something?”

The Doctor cast a rapid, confused glance in her direction, the majority of his attention on the overly complex device in his hand. Bill wasn’t sure what it was, but it looked awfully like a space-Rubix cube. “What?” he asked, twisting it then scowling. 

Bill gestured ahead at the previously-blue spaceship which was... well, no longer blue. Instead it glowed red under the LED streetlamps, and the Doctor looked up and mumbled something under his breath that Bill was reasonably sure was a swearword. 

“Ah,” he said tartly. “It isn’t meant to do that.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	192. Chapter 192

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theta Sigma, rocker extraordinaire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Theta and Koschei are the members of 'Gallifrey Academy Hot Five' band. Theta plays guitar and Koschei plays the drums. Oswin (Time Lady version of echo Clara) is a big fan of this band. She has the pin-up on her wall._

“Oh, my god,” Oswin exhaled in awe, her eyes going wide with shock. “You’re Theta, aren’t you?” 

She was dimly aware that she’d dropped the books that she was holding, and that she probably didn’t look overly dignified, but she found it hard to care about that at that present moment in time as the tall, good-looking man in front of her smirked, pretending not to be pleased.

“I might be,” he teased, his accent warm and rich. “Why?”

“I have your poster on my wall,” she said in a rush, her cheeks turning pink. “Well. Not just you; your band. I’ve listened to all your songs, even the acoustic versions, and I-”

“Well,” he interrupted, running a hand through his hair and grinning. “I tell you what, why don’t we go grab a drink and discuss them?”

Clara let out a slightly strangled squeak, which he seemed to understand as an assertion.

“Now, ah...” he crouched down and gathered up her books. “Shall we?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	193. Chapter 193

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In all her aeons of scheming, Missy had never considered this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _The Master and Missy get into the Doctor's confession dial for an unknown reason. They go exploring the castle and occasionally, they find the portrait of Clara. They find the message of room 12 behind the portrait. When they get there, they see the Twelfth Doctor, who is in room 12, dying._

“He doesn’t look good, does he?” Missy remarked with a tinge of sadness, leaning against the windowsill and looking into the room opposite, where she could see the shape of her nemesis-cum-best-friend, who was slumped in a chair and evidently in pain. 

“He’s dying,” her younger self said snippily, and she sensed rather than saw his eye roll. “He wouldn’t.” 

“I just...” she sighed, unsure how to phrase her concerns without being mocked. “If only we could do something.” 

“You’re getting quite soft in your old age,” the Master raised an eyebrow and ripped the final petal off the lily he’d been examining for the last five minutes. “It’s unacceptable.”

“Don’t pretend you don’t care.”

“I _don’t_ care.”

Missy snarled, clenching her fists in her lap, but the Master only smirked. 

“Temper temper,” he said in a snide tone. “Shall we go and cause trouble somewhere instead of watching Grandad die? I’m sure that’ll cheer you up.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	194. Chapter 194

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a sensitive topic for both of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From cumberbooty's prompt:
> 
> _Simm!Master and Missy talking about their daughter (reference from The Witch's Familar). Either she is estranged from them or she has died._

“Have you seen her recently, then?” the Master asked, in a voice which Missy knew was a concerted attempt at sounding casual but which fell somewhat short. 

“Seen who?” she asked, with an equally terrible stab at nonchalance, keeping her eyes downcast and continuing with her task to avoid meeting his gaze.

“You know who,” he lowered his voice an octave and said conspiratorially: “ _Her.”_

“Not since the last Time War, no,” Missy informed him tartly, her throat closing up, as it always did, at the thought of their daughter. “She’s ah... busy.”

“‘Busy’ here being a metaphor for dead?” 

“Maybe.”

“Don’t be coy with me, woman.”

“Shut your damn face,” she snapped. “Focus on the job at hand.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	195. Chapter 195

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matching tattoos? Oh, go on then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _“Matching tattoos? Really?” Clara asked. Twelve nodded. “Well, it's been 3 years since we've travelled together…”_

“Really?” Clara squinted over at the Time Lord, who was leaning against the console, attempting to look nonchalant and failing only slightly. “Matching tattoos?”

“Well,” he mumbled, turning red and twisting his hands together. “It’s been three years since we started travelling together, I thought it might be nice to... mark the occasion.” 

Clara thought about it for a moment, weighing up the pros and cons. “Hmm,” she mused aloud, just to tease him. “Well, there’s two caveats.”

“Really?” the Doctor blinked in surprise. “Sure. Urm. Name them.”

“One, nowhere visible. Like, to students.”  
  
The Doctor nodded solemnly in agreement.

“Two, I get to pick the design.”

“But-”

“No,” she said firmly, holding up a finger warningly. “Don’t argue. I’m not getting anything stupid, like a rubber duck.” 

“Fine,” the Doctor muttered sulkily. “Now, I know just the place...” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	196. Chapter 196

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The best comic con in the universe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Bill missed this year's Comic Con and asks the Doctor to help her. But the Doctors knows better and takes to THE best geek convention in all of space and time! Extra point if she buys a Dalek plushie. Because it's obvious they have Japanese-made kawaii Daleks in the Doctor Who universe!_

Bill grinned at the Doctor from over the top of the enormous bag of merchandise she was currently lugging about with both arms. “Thanks,” she said fondly, feeling a rush of affection for the awkward Time Lord. “This has been a great day out.”

“Well, I couldn’t have my best student all down in the dumps because she missed Comic Con, could I?” he shot back in a warm, paternal tone, and she felt a rush of pride at the words ‘best student.’ “Not that I really know what a ‘comic con’ is, but you seem to be having fun.”

“I’m having the _best_ time,” Bill shifted the bag so that it was under her left arm, then edged closed to a stall bearing cuddly toys. One in particular drew her eye, and she gestured to it with a look of bemusement. “Look, cuddly Daleks. Tasteful, eh?”

The Doctor rolled his eyes. “Capitalism and genocide. Who knew the two would collide?” 

“Does this mean I can’t buy one?” Bill teased, and earned herself a scowl of reprimand.

“Correct,” he said firmly, reaching instead for a round, cuddly-looking creature. “How about this? Squishy baby Adipose. I had a run-in with these once, they’re really rather sweet.” 

“Hmm,” Bill took the proffered toy. “Well, I guess it’ll do...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	197. Chapter 197

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Hybrid proves to be even more lethal than expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _What if the Hybrid wasn't actual the Doctor and Clara but it was from the most famous warrior Time Lord mixed with another species' DNA and the Doctor finds himself alone facing it?_

The Doctor stared across the barren, scorched landscape before him, revulsion churning in his gut as he took in the sight of the monstrous entity that stood amid the remains of a destroyed building. It was approximately human, but its arms and chest were covered in hideously familiar golden armour, and its eyes glowed an unnatural shade of blue.

“Well?” the creature facing him called, its tone mocking. “Don’t you have anything to say? After all, you _are_ my creator.” 

“No,” he said at once, shaking his head furiously in denial. “No, I’m not. You were made  _from_ me, there’s a difference.”

The creature tilted its head and smirked. “Well, yes. Now, are we going to get down to business? I’d really like to exterminate you.”

“You know, I think I preferred your creators when they talked less.”

“Well, I think I’d prefer you dead.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	198. Chapter 198

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Koschei, First of His Name, Committer of Genocides.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _The Master taking the Iron Throne._

The Doctor raised an eyebrow, leaning against a pillar of the Great Hall and scuffing the toe of his Converse over the flagstones. “Really?” he asked, unable to keep a hint of awe from creeping into his tone. “The Iron Throne?”

The Master only smirked, leaning back against the smelted-together swords and steepling his fingers. “Why should I limit my ambitions just because those silly little humans think it’s fictional?”

“Because you undoubtedly did awful things to gain power.”

“Oh, you know me, Thete,” the Master pursed his lips, affixing his old friend with a wicked look. “I never kiss and tell.” 

The Doctor rolled his eyes, refusing to rise to the bait. “Right,” he hesitated for half a beat, then found himself asking: “Isn’t it uncomfortable? The throne?” 

“Why don’t you come and find out?” the Master winked. “Or here’s a novel idea, maybe you could sit on my lap.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Now, that’s no fun,” the Master tutted. “But now you mention it... just a little. I might have to get an... iron cushion, or something.”

“You are truly incorrigible.”

“Oh, I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	199. Chapter 199

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rassilon realises what he's done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _The Time Lord Victorious in Hell Bent with Rassilon and the others realising what they've just created?_

“By the stars in the sky,” Rassilon muttered, looking around the High Council Chamber at his assembled former ministers and feeling his hearts sink. “What have we done?” 

A man in the corner, whose name he had never bothered to learn, looked up at him with the kind of contemptuous smirk that he would have punished with execution some mere hours previously, but now he could only grit his teeth and tolerate. “It would appear, _Former_ Lord President,” the strange Time Lord told him snidely. “That you have created exactly what we sought to avoid.”

“No,” a nearby Time Lady mumbled, beginning to shake her head. “No, we cannot have done...”

“The Hybrid,” Rassilon groaned. “Gods, I’ve been a fool.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	200. Chapter 200

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's not insane. Not like that, anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _The Doctor is trapped in an asylum, in the old days so it's not a case of using the sonic screwdriver to get out, but the Doctor is determined to get out._

“Doctor?” 

He was only faintly aware of Clara’s voice. It seemed far-off and distant and echoing, even though she couldn’t be stood more than a metre away from him in the cosy confines of her flat.

“Doctor?” she asked again, reaching over and taking his hand, and her touch was enough to jolt him back to awareness. “What’s happened? You look... well, you look terrible.”

“Thanks,” he mumbled, forcing himself to grin a little. Well. Bear his teeth a little. Same difference. “I... there was... a place.”

“What kind of place?”

“An asylum.”

“But you’re not mad,” Clara thought for a moment, then amended her statement to: “Well, you _are_ , but not in that way.”

“They just...” the Doctor repressed a shudder. “Can we please just... sit here? For a bit?” he gesticulated to her lounge. “And do innocuous things?” 

Clara blinked, visibly startled. “Yeah,” she said after a beat. “Yeah, of course.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	201. Chapter 201

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor thinks he's so clever. Clara disagrees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _The Doctor does a fake regeneration like with Bill, except it's with Clara?_

“You bastard,” Clara managed, swiping her hand furiously over her eyes and taking two strides towards him. “You absolute fucking _bastard.”_

The smug smile died only slightly on the Doctor’s face, and incensed by his proud, ‘aren’t I clever’ smirk, Clara raised her hand and slapped him as hard as she could. To his credit, he did look somewhat taken aback by this development, and he clutched at his cheek with a contrite and confused expression.

“Bastard,” she said again, beginning to sob. “How could you... god, you _knew_ how much it hurt me...” 

“Clara,” he mumbled, looking alarmed and apologetic all at once. “Clara, I’m sorry...” 

“I don’t care if you’re sorry,” she spat. “I don’t give a shit; you think that was funny? You think you can just pretend to regenerate, and don’t worry, sweet little Clara will be fine with that; sweet little Clara will just damn well cope with it just like she copes with everything else? Oh yeah, Doctor. Yeah, I’m coping so bloody well with things. So bloody well that I’ve got a box of tablets on my nightstand, and two counselling sessions with UNIT a week. But don’t you worry, you keep pulling _unbelievably fucking shitty_ stunts like this.” 

“Clara...” he said again, but she turned on her heel.

“Get out of my flat,” she shot over her shoulder. “If the TARDIS isn’t gone within two minutes, so help me god, I will injure you severely enough to make you _need_ to regenerate.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	202. Chapter 202

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything goes horribly wrong for Amy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt: 
> 
> _Amy watching in slow motion as her younger sister is shot by a Dalek. The Doctor gets angry, Amy cries. You decide if the sister lives or dies._

“No,” Amy mumbled, her body finally unfreezing as the shock passed and her legs carried her forward in a lurching, unsteady run. “No, Leah, no...”

She was dimly aware of the Doctor behind her and Rory to her right as she watched her sister crumple to the floor in slow motion, her head hitting the concrete with a sickening _thunk_.

“Leah,” she said again, dropping to her knees and pulling the teenager into her arms. “Shit, no, this isn’t... no, please, no...”

“Hey,” Leah laughed breathlessly, grimacing a little as she squeezed her older sister’s hand. “Hey, I’m... I’m OK...”

“You shouldn’t be,” the Doctor muttered, frowning down at her. “That’s not to say I’m not pleased but... it should’ve killed you.”

“Well,” Leah chuckled drily, then winced in pain. “I guess I’m special, aren’t I?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	203. Chapter 203

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _River doesn't know she's pregnant and ends up meeting her future daughter._

“Hey, Mum,” the strange teenager said casually, chucking her coat onto the backseat of the cruiser River had borrowed two planets over and never quite got around to returning. She froze, gaping at the stranger first in the rear-view mirror and then directly, while the girl blinked in confusion at her lack of response. “Mum. Why are you looking at me like that?”

River felt her chest constrict painfully. “Sorry, I think you’ve mixed me up with someone else.”

“River Song, born Melody Pond to Amy Pond and Rory Williams on Demons Run Military Base, yadda yadda, etcetera etcetera. Significant other of the Time Lord known as the Doctor, or, as far as you’re concerned, ‘sweetie.’ Or in my case, ‘Dad.’”

“Right,” River squeaked. “I urm. You’re urm. I’m urm. I never planned to... that is... we didn’t...”

“Oh _shit_ ,” the girl’s eyes widened. “Have I just...”

River raised her eyebrows. “Very much given me some major spoilers, yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	204. Chapter 204

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara makes efficient use of the Red Chair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From [Alex's](http://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSaddleman/pseuds/TheSaddleman) prompt:
> 
> _Clara wins a contest to appear on Norton's Show. The Doctor attends the taping and gets himself in the "Red Chair" and embarrasses Clara so much, she pulls the lever!_

"Oh my god,” Clara mumbled, her eyes wide and horrified as she looked across the set to a monitor on which she could see two things. The first was the infamous Red Chair, the part of the show which she had been most looking forward to. The second was a horribly familiar Time Lord, who was grinning in a manner which was entirely disconcerting and rubbing his hands together with what Clara knew to be glee. “Please, no.”

“Who do we have here?” Graham asked with a smirk. “Why don’t you introduce yourse-”

Clara leaned over and pulled the lever, and the Doctor was tipped backwards and out of view.

“Well,” Graham said with amusement. “Not a fan of men with hair the size of Jupiter?”

“No,” Clara lied. “Not a bit.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	205. Chapter 205

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Same case. To a degree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From allnewtpir's prompt:
> 
> _We all know new Doctors mean new outfits. However, what if 13 bucked the trend? Prompt goes as thus: 12 regenerates (with Clara nearby, natch), and, in that brief time before regeneration sickness kicks in (or after the standard first adventure with the new body), decides to keep 12's outfit. Either way, Clara's not complaining._

“You kept it,” Clara said, her tone caught in the hinterland between amusement and upset. “The outfit, that is.” _And me,_  she added silently. _I hope._

“Pockets,” the new Doctor said with a shrug, promptly shoving her hands into them and dropping her gaze to the floor with a distinctly awkward air. “And comfort.”

“Ah.”

“Do you...” the Time Lady hesitated, evidently searching for the right word. “Mind?”

“No,” Clara lied. “Yes. Maybe. I don’t know.”

“I can change, if you’d prefer?” 

“No,” Clara blurted before she could stop herself, reaching out and seizing the Doctor’s wrist. The burgundy velvet sleeve was gapingly huge on the newly-slim Gallifreyan, and she swallowed a sob. “Please.” 

“OK,” the Time Lady whispered soothingly. “OK.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	206. Chapter 206

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor prepares for Christmas with Nardole. Well. Nardole, and the Time Lady in his vault.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _The Doctor and Nardole spend time getting a Christmas hamper together for Missy. Although Nardole isn't too keen on the idea, the Doctor thinks it'd be good to treat her a bit. Set before the Doctor met Bill but is lecturing._

“Are you sure about this?” Nardole asked, tilting his head to the side and surveying the Doctor with a wary expression. “I mean, giving Missy sharp objects seems like a bad idea.”

“They aren’t sharp objects!”

“Sir, I must point out that a bottle of wine can be repurposed as a sharp object, and I fear that she could use it to try and escape her confinement.”

“Nardole, she hasn’t tried to do that in months.”

“Well...”

“It’s Christmas. I think she deserves something nice at Christmas,” the Doctor sighed, resigning himself to his butler’s uncertainty. “If it makes you feel better, I could drink the wine with her and then remove the bottle upon leaving.”

“Fine,” Nardole said, nodding. “That works. Just... don’t do what you did last time. It took a whole lot of counselling to recover from seeing... _that_.” 

The Doctor turned a fiery shade of red. “I urm. We urm. That is to say...”

“Or just... wait until I’m not there. Thanks.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	207. Chapter 207

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Falling out with the TARDIS is nothing new. Falling out _of_ the TARDIS, however...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From allnewtpir's prompt:
> 
> _We see what happens to 13. Guess who catches her?_

The Doctor blinked hard, looking around her and trying to focus on her brightly-lit surroundings. Everything hurt, and that definitely wasn’t supposed to happen, but she didn’t seem to be dead, so every cloud.

“You know,” a familiar voice hummed from above her, and she knew somehow, through some long-buried innate knowledge, that the upbeat tone being utilised was a mask for what lay underneath. “Every time this happens, you fall out with the TARDIS. But this might be a first: you actually falling out _of_ your TARDIS instead.” 

The Doctor looked up then, taking in the speaker and feeling a warm rush of affection: Clara Oswald was stood in the middle of her diner, her hands on her hips and - oh, right, yeah, there was the being-a-woman thing, because Clara’s smile was dying on her face. “Urm,” the Doctor began uncertainly, smoothing her hair down and worrying at her lip with her teeth. “Is it bad?” 

“It’s...” Clara swallowed, and her smile reappeared, only a modicum more forced. “No. It’s just... you’ve never... I didn’t expect you to be quite so... different.” 

“I’m...” the Doctor searched for the right word, wary of causing further upset. “Sorry?” 

“Why?”

“Because you look proper upset.” 

“I mean, you _did_ just fall into my TARDIS.” 

“So, the being-a-woman thing...”

“Might take getting used to,” Clara’s smile lightened a touch; sincerity seeping in at the edges. “But we’ve got plenty of time.”

“We do?” 

“Yes,” Clara said fondly, dropping to her knees beside the Time Lady and wrapping her arms around her tightly. “Yes, we do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	208. Chapter 208

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She needs to learn how to fly this thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Do you think you could expand 13's reaction scene please before she gets kicked out of the TARDIS?_

“Oh, brilliant!” she gave a triumphant laugh as she caught sight of her reflection, giving her hair a pleased little ruffle. “Finally got the upgrade, then.”

The TARDIS gave a great, shuddering lurch, and she realised that there was probably something she should be doing to prevent it from... well, doing that. Whatever ‘that’ was.

“Bugger,” she muttered, circling the console on unsteady feet and reaching out for the handbrake. OK, that was good. Hands. She still had hands. 

There was a massive flurry of sparks, and the whole ship rocked to one side with a terrible wrenching creak.

“Alright!” she called in irritation, and it was then that she realised something about her voice. “Hang on. I’m from the north. Oh, bloody hell, not again.”

She groaned. Trying to explain her accent to strangers was always... interesting. Oh well, at least more planets had a north than had a Scotland. 

The TARDIS began to sound several alarms at once, and she swore under her breath.

“Alright,” she said again. “Let’s sort you out, eh?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	209. Chapter 209

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two Time Ladies and an immortal walk into an alleyway...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From allnewtpir's prompt:
> 
> _13 & Clara run into Missy (either from Series 10 or resurrected because Missy), and she's impressed the Doctor is actually a woman now. Obligatory flirting ensues._

“So,” called a familiar Scottish voice, and Clara felt her stomach sink as she turned around and took in the unwelcome sight of Missy, leaning artistically against a nearby lamppost. She wondered, somewhat flatly, how long the Time Lady had been stood like that. “You upgraded, then.”

“I’m not a Cyberman,” the Doctor refuted, rolling her eyes in exasperation. “But, yes.” 

“Oh, and dearie me, you’re _northern_ ,” Missy made a face of disdain. “Well, the Scottish couldn’t last forever, I suppose. You’re not bad looking now, you know?”

“I wasn’t bad looking before,” the Doctor said defensively, dusting down her coat and shuffling from foot to foot in a self-conscious manner. “Thank you very much.”

“Can attest to that,” Clara interjected, scowling at Missy. “Very much-”

“How’s the puppy taking it?” Missy asked the Doctor in a conspiratorial whisper. “Is she traumatised, the poor love?” 

“It doesn’t matter to me what sex she is!” Clara protested, taking the Doctor’s hand and smiling as the Time Lady laced their fingers together and squeezed gently. “I love her. All of her.”

“Disgusting,” Missy said dismissively, but there was a hint of something like jealousy in her eyes. “Honestly, disgusting.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	210. Chapter 210

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The girl who waited and the woman who walked the Earth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _The Eleventh Doctor gets a call from Martha via her old friend Amy Pond. The three investigate a missing X-Files fan._

“Alright,” the Doctor looked between the two women stood before him, caught somewhere between confusion and amazement. “So, first things first. You know each other. How? How is that a thing? Amelia Pond, the girl who waited, and Martha Jones, the woman who walked the Earth... are apparently bestest buds. Please explain.” 

“Do we all have nicknames?” Amy wrinkled her nose. “Thanks, Chin-boy. Way to make a girl feel special.”

“I...” he began, feeling suddenly flustered. “Well... I... urm...”

“He’s so adorably awkward,” Martha chuckled. “If you really want to know, I used to work with Rory. You know, Amy’s other half? Dopey, but sweet in his own way.”

“Yes, I know him,” the Doctor rolled his eyes. “But how...”

“Women have their ways, Doctor. Don’t make us elaborate on that. Now, are you going to help us, or not?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	211. Chapter 211

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Brigadier has some questions for Thirteen...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From allnewtpir's prompt: 
> 
> _Some time ago you filled a prompt involving the Brigadier finding 13 tied up. I wanna follow up on that and have the two of them discuss the events of "TUAT"._

“Are you quite sure?” the Brigadier asked, leaning forwards in fascination. “You’re quite certain that that’s what the chap said?” 

“I’m sure,” the Doctor said patiently, wriggling a little in her bonds. “Urm, Brig-”

“How absolutely fascinating!” he enthused, taking no notice of her discomfort whatsoever. “What was he like?” 

“Could you please untie me?” she asked in desperation. “While I might spend a lot of time being held captive, that doesn’t mean I enjoy it.” 

“Oh!” the Brig blinked, his cheeks flushing crimson as he fumbled through his pockets and eventually succeeded in locating a penknife. “My apologies. Right away.”

“Thank you,” the Doctor rolled her eyes as he began to saw through the ropes binding her wrists. “But... he was a lovely guy. Really of his time, but otherwise... a nice bloke. I liked him. My companion liked him.”

“Where is he?” the Brig asked, looking around the empty concrete room as though it might yield a clue. “Your companion?” 

“She,” the Doctor corrected reflexively. “Urm, it’s complicated. She sort of... died. Then un-died. And now her consciousness has been uploaded to a galactic matrix.”

“Oh,” the Brig blinked a couple of times in consternation, finally succeeding in hacking through the rope. “Well, I’m sorry to hear about the first part.”

“Mm,” the Time Lady turned her face away. “Me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	212. Chapter 212

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill and Donna swap notes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From leftcollectoryouth-758d2763's prompt: 
> 
> _Bill and Donna meet and start gossiping, comparing their Doctors._

“Does he still do that thing?” Donna broke off to gesticulate grandly with her arms in a passable imitation of their favourite Time Lord. “You know, the big grand explanation thing? Like he’s the smartest person in the room, and no one else could possibly hope to comprehend the gravitas of what he’s saying?”

Bill snorted into her mug of tea, before setting it down and grinning. “God, yes. And I mean, don’t get me wrong... he probably _is_ the smartest person in the room. But like... he doesn’t need to act like humans are morons, you know? We aren’t all stupid. We aren’t all total idiots.”

“Most humans,” Donna mused, picking up her biscuit and biting into it with aplomb. “ _Are_ idiots. We are clearly the exceptions, however, and it is our solemn duty to smack sense into that idiotic Time Lord whenever he starts generalising.”

“Oh, definitely,” Bill chuckled. “Now, tell me more about this long coat...” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	213. Chapter 213

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor loses himself to the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From allnewtpir's prompt:
> 
> _Since we know 12 could get dark when pushed: Clara see 12 kill someone who attacked her._

“Doctor,” Clara couldn’t move. If she stayed where she was, and her view remained partially obscured by the bins lining this filthy back alley, she could pretend not to see what the Doctor was looming over, his hands outstretched and his expression murderous. “What...”

“Clara,” he said in a low, furious tone that he had never used towards her before, and she felt her stomach lurch. “Look away.”

“I won’t,” she said fiercely, plucking up the courage to edge closer, and she realised with a sickening jolt that she could see the prone feet of his... she didn’t like to think the word ‘victim,’ but that was what the human lying before the Time Lord had become. “You need to stop.”

“He hurt you,” the Doctor snarled, balling his hands into fists. “He would have hurt you more if I hadn’t-”

“You didn’t need to _kill_  him!” she protested, her voice becoming shrill with terror. “You...”

“He’s not dead,” the Time Lord said with absolute calmness. “Just maimed.”

Clara’s vision swam, then tilted dangerously. 

“Clara?” the Doctor asked, darting forwards, and the last thing she was aware of before she fainted was pushing him away from her with all her strength, and then hitting the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	214. Chapter 214

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's something familiar about the stranger in the corner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From Alleemaria's prompt:
> 
> _Clara meeting - and very quickly recognizing - the Doctor as Thirteen, despite the fact that no one calls her Doctor / doesn't see the Tardis nor the sonic screwdriver / the Doctor still doesn't remember her?_

Clara couldn’t help but stare. She knew it was rude, especially in the role that she slipped on like a protective cloak whenever the diner landed somewhere new, yet she couldn’t stop herself. The quiet blonde woman sat in the corner booth of the diner was carrying a tangible air of sadness about her that Clara had only ever seen in one other individual, and she approached them with trepidation. 

“Hello,” she said softly, slipping into the red leather seat opposite the stranger and affixing her with a long, appraising stare. “It’s you, isn’t it?” 

For a long moment, there was silence, and a thousand emotions flickered across the stranger’s face. 

“Yes,” she said after what felt like an eternity, reaching over the table for Clara’s hand reflexively, before looking down at her own palm and bitten nails and freezing, arm extended halfway across the shiny chrome surface. “It is. Hello.” 

Clara reached over and laid her hand in the Doctor’s, squeezing gently and committing to memory the new whorls of the Time Lady’s palm. “I missed you, you know.” 

“It’s a lonely universe on your own.” 

“It is,” Clara smiled sadly. “So, I want to know everything. But I think first... we might need lemonade.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	215. Chapter 215

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The First questions the Impossible Girl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From allnewtpir's prompt: 
> 
> _I'm curious to see how the scene in TUAT with Bill and One would've played out with Clara there, especially if 1 asks her why does she love Twelve?_

“You seem very fond of him,” said the gruff old man that Clara knew, logically, was her Doctor, but seemed inexplicably hostile and... well, alien. “The me from the future, that is.”

“Well,” she shuffled uncomfortably from foot to foot, circling around the unfamiliar TARDIS console and busying herself with the screen. “I am fond of him. As... you know. A friend.” She sounded unconvincing, even to herself, but when she chanced a glance at the Doctor she found him smiling understandably.

“How long has it been?” he asked in a low, soft tone that caught her unaware. 

“How long has what been?” 

“How long have you loved him?” 

“I...” Clara stammered, wrong-footed by his correct discerning of the situation. “I... he... we... I don’t... I... oh god. I don’t know. I don’t age in the way I’m supposed to, but I’d say... four hundred years, six months, two weeks, three days, and about eight hours.” 

The Doctor’s smile grew a little, and yet Clara was surprised to find that it bore no hint of contempt or condescension. “And, might I ask, why?” 

“Why what?” 

“Why do you love him?” 

“He’s just...” she sighed, trying to work out how to express it. “He just... completes me. In a way that no one else ever has.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	216. Chapter 216

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your boyfriend's back on Earth and he doesn't have to know...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _The Doctor decides to take a girl in the TARDIS travelling (after a traumatic alien thing, he tells her there's wonderful things in the world too) so she's travelling with the Doctor and Amy. After a few months travelling, and a few near-death experiences, Amy confesses her love for her._

“Oh, my god,” Amy breathed, pulling away from Sophie and breathing heavily, her eyes wide with panic. “That didn’t... I shouldn’t have...”

“It’s OK,” Sophie said dumbly, taking a step away from the Scotswoman and fighting the urge to bring her hand to her lips in quiet reverence of what had just happened. “It’s fine, really.”

“I don’t know why I did that... I’ve got a fiancé, I can’t go around kissing random women...” 

“Amy,” Sophie said, forcing herself to take a firm, pragmatic tone. “It’s fine. He doesn’t... he doesn’t need to know.”

There was half a beat of silence, in which Sophie wondered if she had overstepped a mark, but then Amy smirked.

“No,” the auburn-haired woman said thoughtfully. “No, he doesn’t...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	217. Chapter 217

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The First is faced with war.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _The First Doctor meets the War Doctor on a battlefield and it's an interesting situation considering an alien species is at war with soldiers while this meeting takes place._

He recognised himself, of course. Millennia of experience had equipped him with a knowing little spark that he always felt upon seeing his previous selves, even if he could never recall those meetings after they had come and gone. Words and faces eluded him; the strange feeling he got when confronted by his past or future did not.

“Hello,” he said, in the low, gravelly voice that had won him legions of support on the battlefield. “Can I help you?” 

His younger self - although the term ‘younger’ was here relative - turned to face him, hands gripping onto his coat lapels in that maddening way he had once been so fond of. “Where in Gallifrey’s name am I?” he asked. “What’s going on?” 

“It’s a war,” the Doctor shrugged nonchalantly, brandishing his weapon with a half-hearted flourish. “Isn’t that obvious?”

“I’m not a creature of war.”

“Well, you will be.”

“What...”

“Look,” he snapped. “I will happily tell you everything, only I’m fairly sure the Silurians’ reinforcements will be here in minutes, so might I suggest finding some cover first?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	218. Chapter 218

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Master throws some shade, and Bill throws some sass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Could you maybe do a drabble where Bill teaches "Mr Razor" about Candy Crush? And his reaction to playing it? Maybe later have the Master comment to CyberBill how annoyingly pathetic it was? Thanks, I think with 10 years there is a lot of space to explore._

“My _god,”_ the goateed man said, rocking back on his heels and adopting the Eastern European accent that Bill was more familiar with. “You were so boring.”

“I - do - not - understand.”

“All those years of you wittering on about your life,” he rolled his eyes, and she was reminded, abruptly and painfully, who he really was. The disc at the centre of her headpiece burned, and Bill fought the urge to turn away from the rogue Time Lord. If she wanted to be angry, she would be. If her anger happened to maim him in some way... well, she could make it look like an accident. “And silly human things like _Candy_ _Crush_.”

Bill said nothing, only stared, and he reverted to his usual clipped, condescending tone.

“How do you humans not just... shrivel up with boredom? Well, I suppose you don’t have to worry about that any longer. Although rust could be an issue.”

Bill turned her head to look at the Doctor, who shot her an apologetic look. 

“You - do - not - have - to - worry - about - me. Worry - about - your - stupid - eyeliner.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	219. Chapter 219

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The TARDIS wardrobe malfunctions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From allnewtpir's prompt:
> 
> _During "Time of The Doctor", Clara saw 11 starkers and wasn't too thrilled. I offer the obvious scenario of her seeing 12 starkers and being more receptive._

“Urm,” Clara circled around the console, unsure of precisely where to look. Well, she knew where she _wanted_ to look, but even the Doctor - for all his spectacular lack of observation - might notice her gaze landing on his crotch, so she continued to focus on the familiar panels and instruments. “Why are you... you know?”

“Naked?” he asked casually, and she chanced a glance at his face. “Oh, urm. Bit of a mix-up with the wardrobe, I’m afraid.”

“How did the wardrobe mix up clothes with... with nudity?” 

“I confused it,” he said brightly, as though this were a frequent occurrence. “Not to worry, I can go and find something to put on if my nudity makes you uncomfortable.”

“Mm.”

“Does it?” 

“A little bit.”

“What if you were naked too?” he asked, with childlike innocence, and she couldn’t help the yelp of shock that escaped her. “Or not, then.” 

“Yeah, or not.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	220. Chapter 220

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Time Lord and a robot split a portion of chips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _The Doctor and Nardole's first day together after River's death and him stopping the Doctor killing Missy. Maybe set after they've put her in the vault and the pair chat about what they'll do over chips? Maybe mention of some on-Earth adventures?_

“So,” Nardole shovelled a handful of chips into his mouth and set to work chewing them with a ferocious sense of determination. After a long pause and an uncomfortably loud gulp, he continued: “You’ve got a woman locked up in a vault.” 

“You know, that makes this sound much worse than it really is.” 

“It’s quite bad, sir.” 

“It’s not that bad!” the Doctor argued, throwing a chicken nugget in the air and catching it in his mouth. “She’s a genocidal, homicidal maniac in need of reform. Really, it’s not imprisonment so much as... therapy?”

“What, Homicidal Aliens Anonymous?”

“Exactly,” the Time Lord smiled. “She’s going to be brilliant, you know.”

“Sure,” Nardole said with an air of confidence that he hoped was convincing, before reaching for the tub of ice cream they’d gone halves on. “Now, dessert?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	221. Chapter 221

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two Doctors and two Bills. A recipe for trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _The Doctor, Bill and Nardole find themselves up against clones of themselves?_

“Doctor?” Bill asked, taking half a step forwards, and the Time Lord stood opposite her did the same. “Is that you?” 

“Yes,” her tutor replied, in a curiously flat tone that sounded distinctly less Scottish than it had done some minutes prior. “It is me.”

“And,” came a horribly familiar voice from the shadows, and Bill could only look on in shock as a carbon copy of herself moved into the light and took her place at the Doctor’s side. “And it is also me.”

“But that’s...”

“Bill!”

She turned towards the Doctor’s - the _real_ Doctor, for whatever that thing was, it wasn’t her favourite Gallifreyan - voice with relief, finding him with a panicked yet intrigued expression on his face. 

“That thing... it’s a clone of you, I think, but don’t touch it. I’m not entirely sure they’re not chrono-displaced, and I don’t want to set off any shockwaves.”

“There’s no way that’s past or future me.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“My hair has never looked that bad. And it never will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	222. Chapter 222

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor's flatmate meets Amy. Sparks fly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Instead of the character Craig, can you make it a woman and the Doctor keeps talking about Amy and the woman is interested, and eventually the woman meets Amy and the Doctor sees them flirting and asks if she wants to come?_

“So,” the stranger raised her eyebrows heavenwards in a quick, teasing flick. “Are you the famous Amy Pond?”

There was, to Amy’s surprise, no malice to her tone. Intrigue, perhaps, and curiosity, but nothing condescending or patronising. _Oh,_ she realised with a faint sense of amused flattery. _She’s interested in me. In_ that _way._

“Who wants to know?” she shot back, determined to give as good as she got. 

“Christina Peterson. I’m your boyfriend’s flatmate-slash-advisor.” 

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Amy clarified, and she couldn’t help but notice the pleased little smirk that crept over Christina’s face. “What are you advising him about?”

“How to act human.”

“How’s that going?” 

“I think it needs work. There’s elements that we might need to demonstrate for him.”

“Such as?” Amy challenged, and Christina’s smirk only grew.

“Physical affection, and-”

The Doctor groaned loudly. “For god sake, is this important flirting?” 

“Yes,” both women said in unison, before breaking into synchronised giggles.

“Well, can you do it on the TARDIS? Places to be, and all.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	223. Chapter 223

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Music brings people together. Even Gallifreyans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _You know how in The Doctor Falls there was 2 weeks (which seemed too long to me given the circumstances of the situation) before Bill woke up and the invasion of Cybermen? I had an idea that the Doctor would play guitar for the kids and he'd convince Missy to play piano and she got her other self to play drums (what else?) cause he could be destructive with the noise. Also it'd give them a break from monitoring the lifts or whatever they were doing those 2 weeks._

The Doctor strummed his fingers over the strings of the guitar he’d found buried in the depths of an outhouse, letting his muscle memory take over and pick out a tune from the jangling, discordant notes that crashed forth from the untuned instrument.

“You’ve improved,” Missy murmured from her spot on the floor beside an aged, broken-down piano, where she was picking at the inner workings with studious determination and occasionally pressing a key or two to test the fruits of her labours. “You used to just about be able to manage the recorder.” 

“I upgraded.”

“You’ve not yet managed the ultimate upgrade, though,” Missy teased, then, seeing his confusion, explained: “Time Lord to Time Lady.”

“I’m sure it’ll happen,” the Doctor chuckled. “Whenever the time is right.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	224. Chapter 224

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jenny thought she knew the Doctor, but this is... new.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Jenny Flint, in her battle gear, feeling like she's forgotten something and finds the Doctor, who can't remember anything, in an alleyway looking at his reflection in a cracked phone screen, he only remembers a name and one fact: her name was Clara and she is gone._

“Doctor?” Jenny took an apprehensive step forwards, well aware of how intimidating she looked in comparison to the vulnerable, shivering Time Lord, and not wanting to frighten him. “You alright?” 

“Clara,” he mumbled, his words slightly slurred. “Clara, my Clara, Clara, my Clara...”

“She’s gotta be around ‘ere somewhere,” Jenny said kindly, stepping closer and noticing that the Doctor was clutching a cracked silvery device in his trembling hands. A phone, he’d called it once, though what it did she had no idea. “She wouldn’t leave you.”

“No,” he muttered, starting to rock backwards and forwards. “No, she’s gone, she’s gone, my Clara’s gone, she’s...” 

He began to sob, and Jenny crouched in front of him, feeling her heart break and taking both of his hands in hers in an attempt to comfort him. 

“She’s gone,” he repeated. “My Clara’s gone...” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	225. Chapter 225

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor crosses paths with a face from the past, and has to break some news...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Can Thirteen meet Jenny (The Doctor's Daughter)?_

She’d been minding her own business, really. Keeping herself to herself, and occasionally chancing the odd trip. Sticking to the same time period; she’d not had much luck in any of Earth’s past, especially not with the human race’s archaic attitudes to gender. It was a sad inevitability, really, and something Clara and Bill had schooled her on, but seeing it first-hand... well, it did somewhat limit her choice of destinations. This planet had been picked on a whim, but upon landing she’d realised it reminded her too much of things that had been, so she’d left the TARDIS parked and buried herself in a book in the console room instead, curled up on the armchair her predecessor had left behind.

Her shock when the doors slammed open was tangible. She froze, shrinking back against the burnished leather and holding her breath.

“Oh my god,” a woman’s voice enthused. “You have _no idea_ how long I’ve been waiting for you to turn up. I’ve been stuck here for weeks, and the ravens keep mistaking me for... well, I don’t know, but I’ve only just got the last of the stains out of my coat, and I’m quite eager to leave. Not to mention the fact I’ve not seen you in _yonks._ ”

She knew that voice. It felt like a voice from a dream, but she did know it.

“Dad?” it called, and she inhaled sharply. “Where are you?” 

She got to her feet unsteadily and crossed to the railing, leaning over it with a sheepish little grin and awkward shrug. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Jenny beamed up at her, her enthusiasm undampened. “Sorry, I’m looking for my dad.” 

The Doctor gave an awkward little wave. “Hi.” 

“No, my...” 

The Time Lady raised her eyebrows.

“Wait... seriously?” 

“Seriously.”

Jenny hesitated for a moment, before bounding up the stairs and flinging her arms around her. “Hi, Mum.”

“Hey,” the Doctor exhaled with relief, returning the hug. “Well. We match now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	226. Chapter 226

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This Scottish chap looks awfully familiar...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _The Twelfth Doctor meets Peter Capaldi?_

The Doctor looked into the middle distance, his brow furrowing at something up ahead of them.

“What?” Clara asked, knowing him well enough to know that something was wrong, and trying hard to discern whatever it was that had captured his attention. “What is it?” 

“There’s... I think we need to leave.” 

“What?” Clara squinted in the direction that he was looking. Nothing out of the ordinary; a perfectly normal shopping street in Cardiff, full of perfectly normal people. “Why?” 

“Temporal anomalies.” 

“What do you mean ‘temporal anomalies’?” 

The Doctor gesticulated vaguely towards the pavements up ahead, and it was then that Clara noticed the cluster of people huddled around a central figure - a central figure that was all too familiar. 

“But that’s...”

“Like I said: temporal anomaly,” the Doctor sucked his teeth for a moment. “Or spatial genetic multiplicity. One of the two.” 

“We should leave,” Clara grimaced, thinking of what could happen if two Doctors - or variants thereof - met. “Now.”

“Good idea.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	227. Chapter 227

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill and the TARDIS come to an understanding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _We got to see Amy and Clara interact with the TARDIS on a deeper level than just being a ship, so do you think we could get Bill having some quality time with the TARDIS where she sees it as more than a machine but maybe realises it's alive?_

“You know,” Bill hummed, circling the console and taking advantage of the Doctor’s temporary absence to have a chat with the time machine. Time ship. Space ship. Whatever. “I think I lowkey am a little bit in love with you. Not in a sexual way, obviously, cos that’d be weird, but like... damn. You do a good job at keeping him out of trouble and keeping me safe, and I like it. Thanks, old girl.”

The ship burbled at her in what Bill would have sworn, had the TARDIS not been an inanimate object, to be a happy manner, and it was then that she was struck by a sudden realisation.

“Hang on,” she said, holding up her hands and narrowing her eyes at the time rotor. “Can you _hear_ me? Light something up if you can.” 

A light underneath the monitor turned green.

“And can you... _understand_ me?” 

The same light stayed green, and Bill’s eyes widened in awe.

“Oh. My. God,” she breathed. “That is _so cool.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	228. Chapter 228

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A spaceship smashes into Big Ben, and the Doctor is certain he's seen this before...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _The Doctor is teaching at the university and one day the lecture hall is empty, so he does a bit of investigating and finds the students all watching the spaceship crash from 2006, when he was the Ninth Doctor. The Doctor remembers the time fondly only, for the students to question what he's talking about. Someone says the whole thing is a fake and the Doctor somewhat confirms their theory._

The Doctor sidled into the students’ union building, looking around for some clue as to where all his students had disappeared to. This building was the hub of student life - or so the university’s prospectus claimed - and that was generally why he avoided it, but today it lay eerily silent, its corridors devoid of young people.

Idly, he wandered through the labyrinthine maze of hallways in search of intelligent life - or human life, the next best thing - and eventually noticed the sound of a television. Following it, he eventually sidled into a staff room or office or similar human-type room, where a gaggle of youngsters were clustered around a television. Onscreen was Big Ben, a chunk carved out of the clock face, and he felt a sudden sense of déjà vu.

“Oh, please,” a nearby human scoffed. “This has to be fake.”

“Well,” the Doctor said, clearing his throat a little, and everyone in the room’s attention snapped to him. “You’re more right than you know...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	229. Chapter 229

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some of them become songs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Twelfth Doctor teaching a grown up punk Alice (from Wonderland) to play guitar, teaching her the song "White Rabbit" to try and bring her memories back._

Alice furrowed her brow, strumming a chord with determination and feeling a flush of pride when the sound created was pleasingly in tune. “Like that?” she asked, looking up at the Doctor for approval as her fingers repeated the motion.

“Exactly,” he beamed with pride, resisting the urge to reach over and ruffle her hair. He doubted Alice would appreciate such a gesture, particularly not with the amount of hair products she’d rigorously applied. “You’re getting it, see?”

“Are you sure this is going to help?” she asked, worrying at her lower lip with her teeth and picking out a second chord, her fingers wandering idly over the strings and finding a third. “I really don’t see how it will.”

“Memories become stories when we forget them,” he said sadly. “Some of them become songs.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	230. Chapter 230

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara meets up with an old rival.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt: 
> 
> _The Doctor meets Tasha Lem for the first time. Also, Clara and Me running into Tasha Lem, who asks about The Doctor._

“So,” Tasha surveyed Clara over her wine glass, her expression unreadable. “How is he, then?” 

She didn’t have to name him. Clara knew, unbidden, who she meant - and knew also that Tasha had not therefore received the damning news. Well. Either of the pieces of damning news.

“He’s ah...” she cleared her throat uncomfortably, refusing to meet the other woman’s gaze. “Good. I think.”

“You _think_?” Tasha narrowed her eyes and set her glass down. “Are you not his companion? Should you not know these things?”

“I _was_ his companion,” Clara blurted. “Past tense. There were... things which occurred. Long story.” 

Tasha’s face became a mask of concern. “My dear, I apologise,” she sighed. “He should not be left alone in this world; I fear the universe seeks to challenge him.” 

“It already has,” Clara balled her hands into fists. “He ah... he changed; not long after you last saw him.”

“Oh,” Tasha looked put out. “Is he handsome, still?” 

“I would say so,” Clara’s mouth quirked into a grin. “Others may not.”

“I have always found the Doctor handsome,” Tasha purred, and Clara felt an irrational stab of jealousy. “Ever since I first saw him in a somewhat salubrious bar just to the left of Orion’s Belt.” 

“Oh?” despite herself, Clara grinned. “Tell me more...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	231. Chapter 231

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For once, the Queen of Evil is not play-acting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt: 
> 
> _Missy ill in the vault and the Doctor thinking she's winding him up until he goes and checks on her personally._

“Missy,” the Doctor rolled his eyes as the doors to the vault hissed open. Stepping over the threshold with a marked sense of irritation, he looked around for the Time Lady, finding himself growing increasingly annoyed as he found the space seemingly empty. “You know, this whole ‘pretending you’re ill’ thing isn’t funny, or clever, or cunning. It’s not going to make me let you out. It’s just annoying.”

The silence and apparent emptiness was starting to unsettle him. She should be here, surely? She couldn’t have already escaped - oh no, she’d want an audience to witness how perfectly clever she could be. Subtlety had never been one of her strong points.

“Thete,” a small voice gasped, and the Doctor circled the bed in the centre of the vault, finding Missy sprawled on the floor beside it. He felt panic spike in his chest at once, and on instinct he fell to his knees beside her and drew her into his arms. In that instant, as he appraised her condition silently, he understood that this was not a pretence. Missy could - and would - never feign such weakness; could never slow the beat of her own hearts to this degree through choice. “Thete, help...”

“I’m here,” he promised her, lifting her into his arms as though she weighed no more than a child and setting her down on the bed with the utmost tenderness. “I’m here now, I’m so sorry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	232. Chapter 232

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor has a moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Maybe a bit of fluff how about Twelve and Bill are listening to her flatmate's music in Knock Knock and the song called I Found Love by Amber Run comes on; another friend is browsing Facebook and sees a suggested friend called Clara Oswald and Twelve has a little moment. Only Bill notices but he says he's fine._

“Doctor?” 

The Time Lord had frozen; he was perched in the middle of the sofa, perfectly immobile, like a terrified animal. Bill looked around them in confusion, trying to work out precisely what had changed in the last few seconds that might have caused such a reaction from him.

“Doctor?” she asked again, a little more loudly, and that was enough for her housemates to notice that something wasn’t right. “What’s wrong?” 

“Is he alright?” Eliza asked, frowning a little in concern. “What’s wrong with him?” 

“I didn’t know Facebook was that boring,” Harry joked, and when Bill looked over she noticed that the profile of a pretty brunette girl with enormous eyes was visible on Harry’s screen. In any other situation, she might have commented, but she instead tugged on the Doctor’s arm. 

“Snap out of it,” she urged. “Stop being weird.” 

He shook his head suddenly, looking down at Bill and smiling as though nothing had happened. “Sorry,” he said cheerfully. “Where was I?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	233. Chapter 233

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jenny gives her mother some advice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Can you carry on with the meeting of Thirteen and Jenny? The Doctor tells Jenny how people have been treating her and Jenny tells her mum not to give up._

“I didn’t think it would be so...” the Doctor huffed and slumped down on the steps of the TARDIS, resting her chin in her hands and allowing her positive mask to slip. “Different.”

“I mean, it’s a big change, Mum,” Jenny plonked herself down beside her and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Gonna take some getting used to.”

“I just...” the Time Lady found herself lost for words, unsure how to phrase her worries to her daughter. “I never really _thought_ about how people treated my friends, you know? I saw it, and I intervened when it happened, but I never really understood it until now. People keep assuming I’m some kind of... Rassilon knows, some kind of incompetent idiot just because now I’m a woman. And a bloody inept one at that; you have no idea how long it took me to figure out bras.” 

Jenny sighed sympathetically, resting her head against her mother’s shoulder. “I know,” she breathed. “I know, but we can work through this.”

“Can... hang on, ‘we’?” 

Jenny grinned. “Yes, ‘we.’ I’m sticking around to hit any sexists. And maybe help with the bra thing.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	234. Chapter 234

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor doesn't want to help the dark-eyed stranger, but he can't quite say no...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _The world has gone to hell and Clara is on the wrong side with no one else to turn to. With her husband recently deceased, she turns to a rough survivor called the Doctor to take care of her son and daughter although his reception to the idea is not a happy one._

“Please,” the dark-eyed woman in front of him begged again, looking to be almost on the verge of tears. She might have been pretty once, before the end of days had come, and he tried to picture what she might have looked like once, pre-starvation, pre-poverty, pre-perpetual-filthiness and pre-desperation. “Please, you have to help us.”

“Why?” he asked, leaning back in his makeshift chair and propping his combat boots on what passed for a desk in the cobbled-together den he had built for himself. “Why do I?” 

“I don’t have anyone else,” her voice wobbled treacherously. “My husband...”

“Died, yeah? Save me the sob story.” 

“Please,” she snapped, her previous display of vulnerability vanishing in an instant as she gestured to the boy and girl playing quietly in the semi-darkness behind her. “They have no one else. Even if you won’t take me, you have to help them.” 

He hesitated for a long moment, sucking on his teeth and weighing up her plea. “Fine,” he said after a few seconds. “Fine, I’ll take all of you. But you’ll find your own food. Build your own shelter. And you won’t bloody whine. Got it?” 

“Yes,” she said, her gratitude almost pitiable. “Yes, thank you, yes, oh my... thank you, of course, got it.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	235. Chapter 235

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Osgood is unconvinced that Missy can change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Osgood reaction to the idea of Missy turning good? Also maybe Bill and Osgood meeting please?_

“Are you sure about this?” Even on the small screen of his phone, the Doctor could make out Osgood raising her eyebrows, and he resisted the urge to roll his eyes in response. “I mean, are you sure she’s capable of... well, being good?”

“I didn’t Skype you to discuss her morality,” he scowled. “I wanted to give you a heads up about my... project.” 

“Well,” Osgood visibly dithered. “I’m just... wary of her. And for good reason; what is it they say about leopards changing their spots?” 

“I know,” he sighed, scruffing his hair up and dropping his gaze to his desk. “I know, I’m just... I’m trying, OK? _She’s_ trying.” 

“As long as you don’t unleash her on me any time soon.”

“Deal,” the Doctor looked up, smiling balefully. “She’s locked up safe, don’t you worry.”

“Hmm,” Osgood said in a tone that perfectly conveyed her dubiousness. “If you say so.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	236. Chapter 236

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lesbian and a Time Lady find themselves stuck on a remote space station.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From leftcollectoryouth-758d2763's prompt:
> 
> _Bill and Missy get stranded somewhere and have to wait patiently together for the Doctor to return for them?_

“Right,” Bill shifted from foot to foot, partly fearful for her life and partly fearful of dying an immediate and fatal gay death on the spot due to, well, the general proximity of one very attractive and very dangerous Time Lady. “I’m just going to... wait over here.”

She tried to sidle towards the far side of the viewing gallery, but found her way impeded by Missy. “Now, dearie,” the Time Lady purred, cocking her head to the side and pouting in an overly exaggerated manner. “Don’t look so frightened, I’m not going to bite. Unless you ask very nicely.”

Bill turned a violent shade of maroon, blushing like an idiot as she fought to remember how to elucidate something, _anything,_ by way of response. “I...” she managed after a moment, her voice oddly strangled. “I’m good, thanks.”

“Sure?” Missy tipped her a wink. “I can be _so_ much fun.”

“Sure,” Bill squeaked. “I’ll uh. I’ll just be. Yeah.”

 _Oh god,_ she prayed, edging away from Missy’s grasp. _Doctor, please hurry. I might die a very gay death otherwise._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	237. Chapter 237

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If there is one thing Clara can do, it's tidy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _The Doctor needs help cleaning The Wardrobe Room._

“Doctor,” Clara said, her voice somewhat muffled by the enormous pile of coats she had found herself buried underneath. She extricated her head with some difficulty, and cast the Time Lord a suspicious glance. “When did you last clean out this room?”

“I don’t know,” he shot an irked glare in her direction. “Besides, you should know better than anyone that time isn’t a strictly linear progression of cause and effect-”

“Don’t change the subject. When, roughly?”

“Urm,” he dithered, looking abruptly guilty. “Before Trenzalore.” 

“Ah,” Clara grimaced, shrugging off some of the coats and stepping towards a gigantic stack of shoes. “Well, if there’s one thing in life I am good at, it’s organisation.” 

“Control freak,” the Doctor muttered, just loud enough for her to hear, and she tossed a stray Ugg in his direction. “Hey!”

“Less talking, more tidying.”

“Yes Miss Oswald.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	238. Chapter 238

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara is not happy with having her thunder stolen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Given the new deleted scenes could you please do a drabble where Clara convinces the Cybermen she really is the Doctor before the Doctor shows up and saves her before she reveals she had it under control?_

“I had it under control,” Clara seethed, scowling at the Doctor and brushing past him angrily as she stormed towards the TARDIS. “I didn’t need you to rock up with your bloody testosterone and your two hearts and save the day like I’m some kind of useless damsel in distress in need of rescuing!”

“Clara!” he called after her, dithering for a moment before setting off in cautious pursuit. “You underestimate how dangerous they are; they could’ve killed you-”

“And yet, here I am.”

“But-”

“If they were going to kill me, they’d have done it immediately,” she snapped, stopping so abruptly that he nearly collided with her. “But they didn’t. Because I used my brain and talked to them and was _coping.”_

“I’m sorry,” he said lamely, dropping his gaze to the floor to escape the intensity of her furious glare. “I’m sorry, I just... I’ve got a duty of care.”

“Prat,” she shot back, but the heat was gone from her tone. “Absolute prat.”

“Only for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	239. Chapter 239

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He'd always wondered who he'd learnt the guitar from...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Eleventh Doctor meets the Twelfth Doctor at a guitar convention; although 11 can't play Twelve sits him down and teaches him chords, only for Eleven to get bored._

“No,” he said patiently to his younger self, jabbing a finger at the bow-tied idiot’s hand and gesturing to where it should be. “Your fingers should be up there, like I demonstrated.”

“Can’t you just...” his past self frowned as he realised why they couldn’t touch, although he had to admit that it would’ve saved a lot of time if they could. “Ah. Right. Yes. So, urm, here?” he adjusted his hands, and the Doctor smiled. 

“Yes,” he said with relief. “There. Now, try giving the strings a strum. Gently, mind. Don’t break the old girl.”

The younger Time Lord strummed experimentally, his face lighting up at the chord that was produced. “I did it!” he said with excitement, repeating the motion. “I can do this!”

“You can do one chord,” he reminded him drily. “There’s still a lot to learn, so don’t get too ahead of yourself.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	240. Chapter 240

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> River isn't used to being a damsel in distress. She's not sure she likes it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _After being rescued by The Doctor River has to endure his comments about her being the "damsel," for a change._

“So,” her husband leant against the doors of the TARDIS, smirking up at her maddeningly. “Aren’t we usually the other way around in this situation?” 

“Shut up,” River muttered, circling the console and feeling her cheeks flush as maroon as her dress. “This is a one-off.”

“Is it, now?” he asked, scaling the stairs to her with unusual elegance and trying - and failing - not to visibly preen. “It’s rather nice to be the knight in shining armour, rather than the damsel in distress.”

“You’re not a damsel, darling,” she said absentmindedly. “You’re one of those kittens that climbs a tree and gets stuck because you’ve overestimated your own abilities and the size of the tree.”

“I...”

“In this metaphor, the tree is the universe, dear.” 

“I get to be a kitten,” he grinned from ear to ear. “So I’m all on board with this metaphor.”

“A minute ago you were a knight,” she reminded him, hating how smug he was but also knowing how good for him it was to have his ego stroked once in a while. “In shining armour.”

“Right,” he looked proud and adjusted his bow-tie with a flourish. “So I was, milady.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“That’s not very nice, is it?” 

“I don’t do ‘nice,’” River reminded him. “That’s why you love me.” 

“Liar,” he breathed, sidling closer to her and meshing his fingers through hers. “Liar, liar, pants on fire.”

She couldn’t help it - she tensed up at once, suddenly unsure which version of her husband stood before her. “About?” 

“Being nice,” he assured her, bumping her hip with his own. “You’re nice to me. Nice to your parents.” 

“The rare exceptions,” her mouth quirked up into a relieved smile. “Now, can we please get out of here?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	241. Chapter 241

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor lacks coordination, but Clara hires her anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From allnewtpir's prompt:
> 
> _13 tries to help Clara in the diner and wacky hijinks ensue?_

Clara rolled her eyes fondly as she watched the Doctor weaving between customers with minimal coordination, her hips or her shins or her hands catching the chrome edges of chairs or tables as she went, sometimes stumbling over against coats or handbags or unwitting diners’ feet. The Time Lady’s newfound lack of coordination made the partnership between them difficult, certainly, but not impossible - Clara had never been able to say no to her favourite Gallifreyan, and this was... well, this was certainly an unexpected situation. 

She had been able to see the fear in the Doctor’s eyes when she’d asked Clara if she could stay, just for a few days, just until she had her bearings, and of course Clara had said yes. Days had stretched to weeks, and Clara had half-hoped the clumsiness would fade; yet now she watched on as the Doctor chewed on her lip absentmindedly, tripped over a half-obstructed handbag and nearly ended up in a woman’s lap. 

The lack of spatial awareness had become endearing, in an odd way, even more so when it came to the two of them alone together; the uncoordinated Time Lady’s nose bumping against hers in shy, nervous kisses, with their teeth knocking together and both of them dissolving into giggles. There was often end-of-day spooning that ended with one or both of them on the carpet, and then there was... well, there had been enough mishaps during the _other_ thing to make Clara blush, if she’d still had the ability to do so. The memory of the sensation danced over her skin, and she crossed over to her girlfriend-slash-partner-slash-whatever-this-was and placed a hand on her waist.

“Hey,” she said softly, pulling the taller woman towards her and bumping her hip against the Doctor’s. “Hey, take a breath, OK? No need to go a million miles an hour.”

“Sorry,” the Time Lady mumbled, dipping her head and flushing maroon. “I’ll try, boss.”

“Good,” Clara stood on tiptoe and pressed a kiss to the corner of the Doctor’s mouth. “Would a lemonade break help?”

“Definitely.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	242. Chapter 242

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jenny and her mother have no time for your 1900s sexist crap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _After Jenny promises to stay with Thirteen, they go to the 1900s and when someone is horrible to Thirteen as a result of her wearing trousers, Jenny shows Girl Power._

“Sorry, miss? Miss!”

The loud, brash voice behind them had precisely the kind of tone that made Jenny wary to turn around, yet nonetheless, turn around she did, dragging her mum with her as she did so. An older gentleman was stood on the pavement some way behind them, gaping at her mother with a look of wide-eyed stupefaction that he hadn’t bothered to conceal.

“Why on earth is that woman wearing trousers?” he asked Jenny, as though her mum was not stood beside her and entirely able to hear him and speak for herself. “She’s not one of those... you know, is she?” 

“Women can wear whatever they like,” the Doctor said from beside her, shifting from foot to foot with apprehension but holding her head up high like Jenny had taught her. “And so what if I am?” 

Jenny squeezed her mother’s arm proudly, as the man’s look turned to one of horror.

“Good lord,” he breathed, looking scandalised. “I’m erm... I’ll be off, then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	243. Chapter 243

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Do blondes have more fun?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Seeing Jenna dyed her hair blonde for The Cry. What would The Doctor's reaction be to a blonde Clara?_

“Clara,” the Doctor said, his expression aghast as he leaned in the doorway of the TARDIS, too distracted by her altered appearance to step into her flat. “Don’t be alarmed, but your hair has changed colour.”

“Yes,” she said through gritted teeth, pulling a jumper on as she spoke. “Thank you, I am aware.”

“Have you been exposed to some kind of chemical?” the Doctor fumbled through his pockets and then pointed the sonic at her, frowning as it buzzed away. “Good god, there’s all kinds of toxins on your head!” 

“Doctor-”

“I should decontaminate you at once, or something bad might-”

“I did it on purpose, I don’t want to talk about it, and no, you are not allowed an opinion.”

“Well, I don’t like it.” 

“Thank you for that opinion which I just _expressly stated_ I did not want,” she hissed, stalking past him and into the TARDIS. “Now, planets. Ideally in silence.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	244. Chapter 244

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey stuff means you end up faced with your current boyfriend _and_ your ex...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Danny and Clara meet the Eleventh Doctor who is not with Clara as it's not a Wednesday, so she tries to play dumb but Eleven won't drop it leading to Danny figuring out the truth._

“Clara!” the Doctor enthused, adjusting his bow-tie with a little flourish as he stepped out from behind an enormous rhododendron shrub in the park and beamed from ear to ear. Clara’s heart sank as she took in the sight of a Time Lord she hadn’t seen in well over a year, and she dropped Danny’s hand as though she had been burned, feeling abruptly sick when confronted with the alien she had first fallen in love with. “How...”

His eyes widened as he looked Danny over from head to toe, and then he leaned in and stage-whispered to her: “Gosh, he’s rather dishy.” 

“Mm,” she mumbled, too shocked to form a coherent response. “Yeah, he is.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me about this lovely chap?” he placed a hand on her shoulder, and the touch was enough to make Clara’s heart skip a beat after the months of minimal contact with his new incarnation. “You should’ve!”

“Clara,” Danny said in a low, concerned voice, reaching over and taking her hand once again; giving it a quick, reassuring squeeze. “Clara, are you alright? You’ve gone really pale.”

“I’m-” the Doctor began, but Clara shrugged both of their hands away from her and interjected on his behalf: “Leaving. He’s leaving.” 

“What?” 

“Oh, my god,” Danny looked somewhere between shocked and mortified as the penny visibly dropped. “Is this... is this your ex-boyfriend? The one you told me about?”

“Well,” the Doctor looked hurt. “I don’t know about the ‘ex’ part... or the boyfriend part...”

Danny’s expression turned to one of anger, and he backed away from Clara at once, looking appalled as he did so. “I see how it is,” he said. “I... I’ll go.”

“Danny,” she implored, stepping forward and trying to take his hand, but he pushed her away. “Danny, let me explain. I-”

“There’s no need,” he said sadly, walking away at top speed, and Clara turned and threw an accusatory glance at the Doctor.

“Thanks a lot,” she mumbled furiously. “Really, thanks _so_ much.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	245. Chapter 245

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He does not use the name 'Doctor.' Not with this face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _The War Doctor and Rassilon argue in a Council Meeting after the Doctor dealt with one of his spies, not knowing he was on the side of the Time Lords. Of course, the War Doctor is furious he wasn't told and that they've lost a good soldier because no one told him he was spying on the enemy. Bonus points if a council member calls him the Doctor and the War Doctor rages that he abandoned that name the moment he started to fight._

“That is not my name,” he said quietly, looking over at the council member with eyes that were wide and raw with the pain of witnessing the suffering of his home planet. “That has not been my name for some time now, Luxion. You should know that.”

“I know that you are the greatest warrior this planet has ever seen, and we need a warrior now to fix this mess we are in,” Luxion shrugged. “We need you, Doctor.”

“And there you have it; the same contradictions. Warrior, Doctor. War, aid. I cannot be both. I will never be both. In this face, I revoke the name I chose and I ask that you cease to use it.”

“You know we cannot do so, Doctor,” Rassilon interjected. “Our names are chosen because they identify not only ourselves, but also what we represent. And you represent a multitude of things to us, all of them useful. We shall cease to call you ‘Doctor’ only when you cease to exist. Not before.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	246. Chapter 246

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara was expecting _a_ doctor, not _the_ Doctor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From ThePurpleFrockCoat's prompt:
> 
> _Clara needs to have surgery (Appendicitis? Tonsillectomy) The Doctor stays with her while she recovers post OR._

“Ow,” Clara mumbled, cracking her eyes open with the utmost resistance and blinking sluggishly in the glare from the overhead lights. “I...”

“Hello,” a surprisingly soft Scottish voice murmured from her left, and she rolled her head to the side to take in the sight of her favourite Time Lord, sat cross-legged on a plastic chair beside her bed, a trashy magazine splayed out on his lap and one of his hands resting awkwardly on the sheet by her side. She had a sudden, strong suspicion that he had been holding her own hand until seconds previously, and she was touched by the thought. Opening her mouth to express that sentiment, she instead found herself blurting:

“Why are you reading _Now_?” 

“Oh,” he flushed a deep shade of maroon, rolling it up and stowing it in an inner pocket of his jacket. “Research.”

“Were you holding my hand?” 

“Maybe,” his blush, if anything, deepened. “Might have been. Possibly. I was worried, alright? Needed to... check your pulse. Duty of care and all. Why are you looking like that? Is it the after-effects of the anaesthetic? Do you feel faint? Is your wrist hurting? Do I need to summon a human doctor?” 

“No,” she said fondly, reaching for his hand before he could move away and giving it a quick squeeze. “You’re just... very sweet.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	247. Chapter 247

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor is regretting making this offer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _11th Doctor helps Clara move in to her new flat._

“Why,” asked the Doctor, peering over the the top of the box he was carrying and wondering, not for the first time, whether it was possible to regenerate due to the sheer exertion of helping Clara move house. “Do you have so much _stuff_?” 

“It’s called ‘being human,’ Doctor,” Clara shot back drily, arching an eyebrow at him delicately. “We have lots of stuff. Besides, you can’t really talk - you’ve got how many rooms of junk in the TARDIS?”

“It’s not junk,” he said primly, sniffing in faux affront. “It’s a collection of highly useful objects that I have accumulated for pragmatic and personal reasons.”

“It’s stuff,” Clara gave him an exasperated look. “Most of it useless.”

“I... you... shush.”

“I’ll shush if you admit that you’re just as bad as humans are for keeping stuff lying around.”

“Never.”

“Well then,” Clara poked her tongue out at him. “Shut up and carry it in silence, then.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	248. Chapter 248

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alcohol and war don't mix.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _War Doctor is somewhat hung over, having turned to alcohol for the night to drown out a extremely bad battle where people were lost. He finds himself sitting in the barn and receiving a transmission of the song Soldier by Fleurie and cleans himself up ready for another day._

He’d known, even as he’d consumed the alcoholic beverage, that it had been a damned stupid plan. Alcohol, especially human alcohol, was never a good idea for a Time Lord, let alone on the eve of a battle, but he had craved the sensation of being drunk, of being disconnected from his actions, and so he had kept sipping the bottle of brandy he’d found in a cubby-hole in his TARDIS until he’d been entirely out of it and ready for the coming battle. It had seemed like a sensible idea at the time; brandy plus Doctor, versus the Daleks. 

Now? Now he was nursing several broken fingers and a hangover, not to mention some incinerated clothing and a motley assortment of bruises. He winced as he bound his fingers together and stripped off his charred shirt clumsily, resolving to never, ever drink before going into battle again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	249. Chapter 249

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's been here before, albeit with a different face and friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _I was watching the Sound of the Drums and was wondering what it would be like if Twelve, Bill and Nardole were on the run from the Master?_

The Doctor had done this before. He had fond memories of the previous time; of nights spent huddled around the fire with Martha and Jack, trying to evade his friend-turned-enemy and his army of murderous spheres. What a mess that had all been, and what a mess it had become again now, just when he’d truly thought he’d made a difference to Missy’s ideologies.

“Cold,” Bill mumbled next to him, edging closer and resting her head tentatively on his shoulder, as though frightened he might shy away. “And although I don’t like admitting it... tiny bit scared.”

“I know,” he murmured, nudging her gently with his elbow. “But you’re doing amazingly well.”

“What about me?” Nardole asked brightly from the other side of their makeshift fire, his face lighting up. “How am I doing?”

“Are you, perchance, hungry?” 

“Yes, actually.”

“Well, you haven’t mentioned it for almost an hour, so you’re doing much better.”

Bill snickered, Nardole scowled, and the three of them lapsed back into terse silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	250. Chapter 250

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jenny worries about her mother's reaction to some serious news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _After Jenny regenerates for the first time, she thinks that Thirteen won't accept her. However, Thirteen reassures her and tells Jenny that she'll always be accepted, no matter what._

Jenny shifted from foot to foot as her mother’s TARDIS materialised, the noise filling her with a mix of apprehension, excitement, and dread. Unsure whether the Time Lady would have the monitors switched on or not, she drew her hood up around her head all the more defensively, taking a deep breath and trying to remember how to breathe normally.

The doors to the time machine swung open and her mother stepped out, beaming from ear to ear. “Hi, love,” she enthused, looking her daughter squarely in the face with an unwavering smile. “How are you?”

Jenny could only gape, shaking her hood off her face as she did so.

“I... but... you... I...”

“What?”

“I’ve changed.”

“Yes, you have,” her mother quirked an eyebrow, looking worried. “Was it really awful? I remember my first time, it was horrendous.”

“But I...” Jenny swallowed. “I look different now.”

“Yes, and?” the Time Lady said softly. “You’re still my daughter, though, and that’s what counts.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	251. Chapter 251

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor frets, and Clara reassures him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From allnewtpir's prompt:
> 
> _Clara and Twelve are together, and he sees her flirt with Adrian. He's put out, and she admits that while she misses the bowtie, she's much happier with who she has now._

“You’re daft,” Clara said fondly, reaching up and placing a hand on his cheek. It didn’t do much to allay the worry he felt, however, and he had to resist the temptation to pull away from her touch and stride around the console in his agitation. “You really are.”

“I’m not,” he mumbled, unable to keep a hint of irritation from his voice. “I’m really not.”

Her brow furrowed as she took in his body language, and he could practically see her putting two and two together. “Doctor, do you really think that I preferred the bowtie?”

“I don’t know,” he muttered sulkily. “We don’t talk about these things.”

“ _You_  don’t talk about them. You don’t ever seem to want to. Which is why I don’t.”

“Do you miss him, or not?” he winced at how confrontational his words sounded. “Sorry. I just... I just worry.”

Clara sighed. “I didn’t mean to flirt with Adrian. It just sort of...” she waved her hand vaguely. “Happened. You know me. You’ve seen me speaking to people. I just sort of... do that.”

He hummed an assertion, knowing she spoke the truth. 

“It’s not because I miss the bowtie. I mean. I do, but I have you. And frankly... you are more than enough, Doctor. You daft old man.”

“I...” he fell silent, dropping his gaze to his feet. “You...”

“I love you,” she said with loving exasperation, knowing instinctively that he needed to hear the words. “All of you. Every one of you. But especially this you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	252. Chapter 252

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor learns about pop culture. Or should that be Pop culture?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt: 
> 
> _Bill explains Funko Pops to The Doctor._

“So, they’re...” the Doctor circled the display in Forbidden Planet, wholly entranced by the stacked boxes in front of him. He looked like a kid in a sweet shop, an image which Bill’s brain helpfully provided, and she couldn’t help but mentally _aww_ at the thought. “Tiny people. Tiny people in boxes.”

“Kinda,” Bill said patiently, picking one up and holding it up for his inspection. “This is a Harry Potter one. It’s a model of the character.” 

“Why do people buy these? Is it to rescue them?” 

“Rescue them?” Bill frowned, suddenly disturbed. “Doctor, they’re not alive; they’re just models. And I guess people buy them because they’re cute, or they want to collect them.” 

“Can we buy some?” 

“Sure,” Bill grinned, although her wallet groaned. “Which ones were you thinking?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	253. Chapter 253

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor spots a familiar chap on ITV...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Since you did the Doctor seeing Sam Tyler and thinking he was the Master, any chance you could do one where the Doctor sees Alec Hardy from Broadchurch?_

“Hang on,” the Doctor frowned, ducking his head back around the doorframe in Martha’s mum’s lounge. He’d been paying a passing visit to his former companion, or trying to, only his aim was as terrible as ever and he’d ended up in the wrong house in early 2010s, scaring the death out of Francine Jones - something which he had to admit was not entirely a bad thing. “Who’s that?” 

“Who?” Francine asked, furrowing her brow before looking back at the TV screen. “Him?”

“Yes, him.”

“That’s... oh, what’s his name? Nice man, Scottish. David Tennant? I believe? Playing Alec something-or-other. He’s a detective.”

“What’s the programme?” 

“Broadchurch. It’s about a murder in a seaside town,” Francine’s frown intensified as she looked between the Time Lord and the screen. “Is there something you’re not telling us, Doctor?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	254. Chapter 254

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara receives some valuable advice on pregnancy from an unlikely source.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Clara is pregnant and nervous and the Doctor accidentally sends her back in time to talk to Queen Victoria, and she (QV) gives her advice/eases her mind?_

“Doctor?” Clara huffed, placing one hand protectively on her bump as she backed out of the room she’d found herself heartlessly abandoned in. “This really isn’t funny any m-”

She collided with someone entirely unexpectedly and - finding herself caught unaware by her ever-shifting centre of balance - tumbled to the floor, grateful she’d had the foresight to protect her stomach. 

“Ow,” she mumbled nonetheless, realising that as she had fallen she’d taken the unfortunate other party in the collision to the floor with her, and scooting away from them on her knees, feeling guilty. “Sorry, I...”

She fell silent as she took in the other woman’s face; a mirror of her own, and at that precise moment, wearing the same expression of confusion.

“I am so sorry,” the other woman said, apparently regaining her manners more rapidly than Clara as she got to her feet and held out a hand to help her up. “That was terribly clumsy of me, especially with you in your condition.” 

“No, it’s...” Clara swallowed, taking the proffered hand and getting awkwardly to her feet. “Fine.”

“You look terrified,” the woman’s expression softened. “I cannot say I blame you, childbirth is a regrettable consequence of the more... entertaining side of marriage. But I assure you, if I can get through it, you can - and coming from your monarch, those are not words to be taken lightly!”

Clara could only nod dumbly, wondering whether the Doctor would be back anytime soon and realising that perhaps, just perhaps, it might not be so bad if he were to be unavoidably detained.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	255. Chapter 255

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor sees a familiar face after a lecture.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _It's been a few years since Class ended and April has gone to the university where the Doctor is teaching. They have a chat about the events, it takes the Doctor a few minutes to realise who April is as for him it was many more years ago._

“Doctor?” the girl was heading in the opposite direction to most of her peers, fighting her way down the steps of the lecture theatre rather than streaming up them and out into the late September sun. That in itself was unusual, but more unusual still was her lack of intimidation as she openly beamed at him from ear to ear. He didn’t take pleasure in giving off an aura of imposing power to his students, it just seemed to happen - only this girl appeared to be immune. “Doctor, it’s me.” 

He dusted the chalk off his hands and frowned down at her as she drew to a halt in front of him, trying to place her face. It came to him in a blinding flash, and he felt his usual composed exterior melt away as he responded to her smile with a genuine one of his own.

“April MacLean,” he said warmly. “How’s being half alien going?”

“Well...”

“Actually,” he cut her off, noticing the students milling around outside. “I believe this lecture theatre is about to be invaded by archaeologists, so why don’t we head back to my office and catch up over tea?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	256. Chapter 256

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose doesn't recognise the stranger, but he seems to know her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Rose meets the Master, maybe during her time with the Ninth Doctor._

It wasn’t that she _wanted_ to look at the stranger - she didn’t, he made her uncomfortable - but more that she couldn’t _not_ look. Her eyes were drawn to him as unavoidably as a moth to a flame, and once he met her gaze, a cold, cruel and calculating smile spread across his face, lighting up his sharp features with a ghoulish malice that made her shiver. She edged closer to the Doctor, one the verge of saying something and alerting her best friend to the stranger’s presence, when the unknown man shook his head a fraction and she instinctively sensed the menace behind the gesture.

Swallowing, she nodded minutely and clamped her mouth shut, trying to tune back into the Doctor’s ramblings and forget what she had seen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	257. Chapter 257

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a forest somewhere in ninth-century France, Clara meets an old friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From allnewtpir's prompt:
> 
>  _I don't suppose you could do a prompt where Clara and 13 find each other again while in the forest?_  
> 
> I don't know why but I envisioned this to be the same forest you see Ten in during The Unicorn and the Wasp.

Clara crashed through the undergrowth, looking from left to right for her tiny immortal companion. Not for the first time, she felt a mounting sense of irritation that Ashildr couldn’t just stay put and not wander off, although she supposed that this was some kind of cosmic karmic intervention for all the times she had wandered away from the Doctor. Still. It was bloody annoying.

“Ashildr?” she called softly, not wanting to attract the attention of any of the local - or the distinctly _less_ local - wildlife. “Are you-”

“Sorry,” a female voice interjected in a sheepish tone, and Clara’s head whipped around to take in the sight of a blonde woman, garbed in a knee-length coat and rainbow-patterned top and looking thoroughly embarrassed. “I don’t suppose you know the way to the nearest civilisation, do you? I was trying to find it but I ended up a bit... lost.” 

Clara wasn’t sure how she knew. Maybe it was something in the woman’s eyes, or the way in which she was stood. Either way, she couldn’t stop herself from beaming. “Doctor,” she said warmly. “So, Gallifrey has a north, does it?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	258. Chapter 258

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor has a mad idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Twelve missing Clara after she walks out in Series 8, then he gets the idea to invite her for the journey on the Orient Express in space?_

He’d been moping for weeks. Not that he’d have admitted that fact to anyone, least of all Clara herself. But it was an unavoidable truth - the TARDIS was that much quieter without her there, and without her to buoy his mood, he felt perpetually irritable. Clara alleviated his mood, encouraged him to talk to strangers, and even - on the odd occasion - caused him to smile. He missed her. 

The advert popped up quite by chance, as he was browsing her Facebook profile on the TARDIS monitor - or trying to, at least. He’d been distracted some hours previously by a game called Candy Crush, and he’d sworn not to sleep until he’d beaten it. But still - there it was, a glowing pop-up advert for the Orient Express.

A plan began to form. A truly mad plan, but a plan nonetheless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	259. Chapter 259

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara wants to know a story. _Her_ story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Clara discovers the painting of her Victorian echo. She asks the Doctor what her other echoes were like? Post-Name of The Doctor, pre-Day of The Doctor._

“What were they like?” Clara asked softly, drawing her legs up underneath her and propping her chin up on her hand as she surveyed the Doctor with drowsy eyes. 

“Who?” he asked, half-listening, half-tinkering with his latest project. If one could call it that; she’d have termed it ‘a waste of time.’ “What were who like?” 

“The others.”

“Other what?” 

“The other... mes. You know. The echoes.” 

He looked up at her then, his eyes wide and his tinkering immediately forgotten in the wake of her unexpected question. She felt like giggling - he looked so stricken by the query, like a deer caught in the headlights - but bit down on her lip and suppressed the sound out of deference to the Time Lord’s feelings.

“Why?” he asked, feigning nonchalance as he cast aside the twisted lump of metal and wires he’d been so determinedly sonicking. “They’re not... you.”

“But I want to know,” she pouted a little, a carefully calculated move, and his resistance visibly wilted. “Please?” 

“Fine,” he said wearily. “Well, I suppose to start from the beginning... first there was Oswin, and she was a genius.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	260. Chapter 260

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara tackles a problem. An emerald green problem with a large number of fastenings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From [Alex's](http://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSaddleman/pseuds/TheSaddleman) prompt:
> 
> _After getting knocked down by Strax's newspaper in Deep Breath, Clara calls for someone to help her put on the Victorian outfit that's been laid out for her. But Vastra and Jenny are occupied with their "houseguest" so she has to try and put it on herself. Comedy ensues - but she ultimately prevails!_

“Ow,” Clara groused, getting to her feet and rubbing the sore spot on her forehead with irritation. Her first thought was that she needed to have a word with the Doctor about the company he kept, immediately followed by a second thought: the crashing realisation that the Doctor was no longer _her_ Doctor, and somewhere between that and the newspaper to the head, she found herself having a little cry - not that she’d have admitted that, of course. Clara Oswald did not cry over men, not even idiotic ones from Gallifrey. 

Her third thought was that she needed to get dressed, because regardless of how much of an uncouth Scottish prat the Doctor now was, he was still the Doctor, and still probably in need of someone to tell him off, and she couldn’t do that in a nightie. Reaching over and ringing the bell beside her bed, she waited for what felt like an interminably long time before realising that no one was coming to her aid, and then passed another interminably long time trying _not_ to think about why that might be. She was sure the Doctor had once mentioned something about Silurian tongues being twenty feet long, and she was determined not dwell on it.

Looking over at the emerald velvet dress hanging from the wardrobe door, Clara shrugged and threw caution to the wind, peeling off her oversized nightgown and chucking it onto the bed behind her. Standing in front of the gown, entirely disrobed, with her hands on her hips and her thinking cap firmly on, it was then that Jenny bustled into the room, turning a fiery shade of scarlet and almost dropping the tray she had been carrying when she took in the sight of... well. Clara couldn’t help but smirk.

“Hello,” she said conversationally to the stammering ladies’ maid who was now trying very, very hard to look anywhere in the room but at Clara. “I need some help getting dressed. You don’t think Vastra would mind, do you?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	261. Chapter 261

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor looks in on an old friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Thirteenth Doctor meets Ashildr before she travels with Clara._

It was, at times, downright advantageous to have changed gender somewhat unexpectedly. Yes, there were downsides - the Doctor shuddered and made a mental note to avoid anywhere pre-1990s, lest she fall victim to any more mansplaining - but there were also positives, namely of the “ability to covertly spy on past acquaintances” variety. Looking across the crowded bar, she let her gaze fall on her mark: a teenage girl with dark hair and a nose stud, who was commanding the attention of a large group of girls with a story about a party she had apparently attended.

The Doctor would’ve smiled as she listened to the fantastical exploits of the night’s revelry, had she not been so caught up in worrying who this girl would end up being. Could she be trusted? _Would_ she be trusted? Would Clara be safe with her?

The girl’s focus shifted then, and she looked directly across the room and met the Time Lady’s gaze.

“Hello, Doctor,” she mouthed, and smiled. “Nice to see you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	262. Chapter 262

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor and the Master find themselves in a fix.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Twelfth Doctor and the Master swap bodies?_

“Ugh.”

The Doctor looked over at his cellmate. Or, more precisely, he looked over at his own body, which his cellmate was now using to talk with _his_ voice, stretching out _his_ fingers and scowling down at _his_ body with _his_  angry eyebrows. 

“Ugh,” he watched himself say again. “I’m _old.”_

“We’re the same age,” he reminded his companion, shuddering at how clipped and English he sounded. “Do try to recall that.” 

“Shut up, Grandpa,” the Master shot back, grimacing. “I’m old, and I’m Scottish. That’s not even to mention these knees! How have you lasted this long with these knees?! How haven’t you keeled over yet?” 

“How have you lasted this long with this greatly diminished height?” he shot back, and his nemesis scowled. The Doctor felt a petty stab of triumph.

“Rude.”

“Well, shut up about my knees then. We need to fix this.”

“Too bloody right we do.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	263. Chapter 263

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor apologises to Clara with a thoughtful gift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _The Doctor breaks Clara's favourite vase but makes up for it in a very sweet way._

He hadn’t meant to do it. Really, he hadn’t - it had been an accident. He’d been trying his best to help Clara as she washed up - domesticity was as much a part of their routine now as saving the planet and battling aliens - when the vase had slipped through his fingers and smashed on the linoleum flooring of his companion’s kitchen. Which would have been bad enough, given Clara’s bare feet, had she not then burst into involuntary sobs and explained that it had been her mother’s favourite. He’d swept up the shards and made offers to stick them back together; he’d apologised, and she’d done the same, insisting it was fine and that it had been an accident, but he knew she was still heartbroken. So now here he was, materialising back in her flat with a box held carefully in both arms.

He stepped out of the TARDIS with a bashful smile, handing her his precious cargo.

“What...”

“For you,” he rubbed the back of his neck as she prised open the cardboard trappings and lifted out a replica of her vase, still lightly warm from the pottery. “I ah... I went back to the point of manuf-”

Clara set the new vase down, got to her feet, and flung herself into his arms, wrapping her own around his chest and clinging to him fiercely.

“Thank you,” she mumbled into his shoulder, and he was vaguely aware that his shirt was now distinctly damp underneath her face. “Thank you, Doctor.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	264. Chapter 264

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amy recognises him, but he doesn't recognise her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Ninth Doctor meets Amy Pond?_

Amy recognised him at once. Not because she’d met him before - she hadn’t - but she’d done enough secretive stalking of the TARDIS database to know that it was a previous face of the Doctor’s, who was lurking about outside of a chip shop for... reasons unknown. Probably hungry. Some things never changed. She half wanted to go over and say hello, but she thought that might look weird or mess with time itself or something similarly catastrophic, so instead she just loitered on the bench she was perched on, waiting for Rory to get back from Boots with the sizeable shopping list of items she’d dispatched him with. She had to admit, this Doctor’s taste in clothes was even more questionable than hers. Leather jackets like that hadn’t been in style since... well, sometime around the late seventies.

The not-stranger noticed her staring and lifted his head in a non-verbal greeting, and Amy did the same. He smiled then, and so did she, and she was on the verge of going over and speaking to him when Rory bustled over, looking considerably harried and lugging two shopping bags in each hand.

“Can we go now?” he pleaded, and when she looked back towards the past-Doctor, he was gone.

“Yeah,” she mumbled. “Yeah, we can.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	265. Chapter 265

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is definitely cheating.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Clara and the 12th Doctor go to a fair and the Doctor cheats at the game booths (pops balloons with the sonic instead of darts or knocks over cups with the sonic instead of the cork gun)._

“Doctor,” Clara complained with polite exasperation. “This is absolutely, 100% cheating.”

“Is not,” he muttered, pressing down the button on the sonic and then smirking as another balloon popped across the stand from them. “It’s using my initiative.”

“No, it’s cheating.”

“Look, when - because it’s definitely a when - I win this, do you want the giant teddy or not?”

Pleased and surprised by the revelation that he was doing this for her benefit, Clara gave a little squeak of assent, and he returned to the task at hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	266. Chapter 266

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time Lords can be more of a help than a hindrance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Eleven helps Clara fix her bike one day, probably humour?_

“Pass me the spanner,” Clara said, one hand holding together the necessary two sections of her bike and the other reaching towards the Time Lord at her side with impatience. “Hurry.”

What was placed in her hand was not, in fact, a spanner. She didn’t even need to look at it to ascertain this, because what was put into her hand was a bag of sweets.

“Doctor,” she said through gritted teeth. “That is _not_ helpful. Spanner, please. Now.”

“Yes, ah,” he began in the kind of tone which indicated to her that he knew he’d messed up. “Which one is the spanner again?”

Clara let out a long, measured breath, resigning herself to the fact that this was not going to be a quick repair job.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	267. Chapter 267

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara's students get a surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _I just watched Ninja Warrior UK on ITV and was wondering if you could write a drabble where the Twelfth Doctor takes Clara to the course and she has a go at it? Bonus points if her students watch it._

"Hang on...” Ram frowned, his homework lying forgotten on his lap as he leaned closer to the TV screen. “Isn’t that Miss Oswald?”

“What?” Tanya asked, the image on his screen shifting abruptly as his homework-buddy-cum-newfound-friend lunged for her own TV remote. “Is what Miss Oswald? Where?”

“TV,” Ram scrabbled around for the Sky remote, hitting pause. “Urm... I think it’s ITV1.”

There was a brief interlude as Tanya channel-hopped, and then: “Ram, this is Ninja Warrior. Miss Oswald is not a- _what the fuck, since when could Miss Oswald do that?!”_

“Oh. My. God,” Ram breathed, letting out a whoop of amusement. “That is wicked!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	268. Chapter 268

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor isn't one for grand gestures... except ones for Clara.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From homeisabluebox's prompt:
> 
> _So I noticed that you reblogged the candlelit Tardis from the deleted scene in Listen, but I just had a thought. What if Twelve is doing all of that to seduce Clara?_

“Doctor?” Clara called as she stepped into the TARDIS, freezing on the threshold and blinking around in awe in the gold-tinged light thrown out by the hundreds of candles arranged on every vaguely-horizontal surface in the console room. She was accustomed to the amber light of the console room, but not like this. “What...”

The Time Lord stepped out from behind the console, a shy smile on his face. “Hello,” he said softly, steepling his hands and avoiding looking at her in a way she found rather endearing. “Do you... ah... what do you think?”

“I think it’s a fire hazard,” she quipped, her mouth twisting into a gentle smile. “What’s it for?” 

“Ah,” he dropped his gaze to the floor. “You, actually. Thought it’d be... nice.”

“Oh,” she breathed. “That’s...”

She crossed the metal flooring and wound her arms around the Doctor’s waist, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	269. Chapter 269

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Martha comes across an old enemy. One with a new face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Martha meets Missy, she does find out who Missy is._

“Sorry, can I help you?” Martha asked the woman with a degree of irritation. She was already running late, and Maxie was starting to grizzle on her hip. She frowned, trying to work out why the oddly-garbed woman seemed familiar.

“I just...” the stranger stood before her - really quite threateningly, actually; if she hadn’t been holding Maxie she’d have reached into her handbag for her weapon - blinked a couple of times. The unknown woman was garbed head to toe in purple, and looked rather like Mary Poppins. A really weird Mary Poppins. “Wanted to say hello. Who’s this little love?” 

“None of your business,” Martha snapped, trusting her gut instinct. “I’m not stupid. I know an acquaintance of the Doctor’s when I see one.”

“’Acquaintance’?” the woman looked outright affronted. “I’m his oldest friend, I’ll have you know.”

Martha felt realisation dawn, instantaneous and ice cold. Without thinking, she clung to Maxie tighter with one hand and slapped the woman hard across the face with the other, panting with fury.

“Well,” the woman said tartly, rubbing her cheek and looking entirely unmoved. “I suppose that was to be expected.”

“Stay away from me and my family,” Martha hissed. “Or so help me god, I will rain hell on you for the rest of time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	270. Chapter 270

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor reassures a young warlock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _The Doctor and Bill meet Merlin and Arthur and the Doctor helps comfort Merlin about his destiny and also being able to stop Morgana?_

“You don’t need to worry,” the Doctor intimated, once all the hubbub had died down and he found himself alone with the nervy-looking young lad who had helped to save the day. “You know that, don’t you?”

“Worry? What on earth would I be worried about?” Merlin scoffed, although his tone was a touch too panicked to be convincing. “I mean, aside from having to hide the fact I have magic, trying to stop Morgana, making sure Arthur doesn’t die before fulfilling his destiny, and everything else that seems to happen to me?”

“Merlin,” the Doctor said in a low, reassuring tone. “It’s all going to be fine. Trust me, I’d know.”

“How could you know that?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Try me.”

“Well...” the Doctor dithered, wondering how best to do this. “I’m not from around here, but trust me... things will work out fine. And you? You’ll be remembered forever.”

Merlin snorted. “Me? I’m not the important one; that’s Arthur.”

“But that’s where you’re wrong,” the Doctor smiled. “Because you’re as much a part of Camelot as he is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	271. Chapter 271

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Osgood checks up on her colleague-slash-friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Twelfth Doctor and Bonnie have been traveling for a little while now and Osgood isn't too impressed._

“Are you sure about this?” Osgood asked with a weary sigh, fiddling with her computer mouse to avoid looking at the Time Lord sat across the desk from her. Chancing a glance at him, she realised he shared her mortified look, and she had to suppress a nervous giggle; she felt abruptly like Clara, telling off a student who’d done something naughty. 

“What do you mean?” he said glibly, fiddling with a reel of cotton he’d produced from an inner pocket. “Sure about what?” 

“You. Bonnie. The TARDIS. She was once a megalomaniacal alien intent on taking over the world, do try to keep that in mind.” 

“I do keep it in mind,” he sighed. “But, depending on which one you are, so were you.” 

“I’m not confirming or denying anything.”

“No, I thought you wouldn’t,” he muttered. “Just... have some faith in her, please?”

“I’m trying,” Osgood said through gritted teeth. “Just... be careful. Deal?”

“Deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	272. Chapter 272

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara meets Bill under less than ideal circumstances.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From lattelaurel's prompt:
> 
> _Clara meets Bill!_

“Ah,” Clara flushed a deep shade of crimson, stepping away from the Doctor and swiping a thumb over the edge of her mouth in an attempt to salvage her lipstick, which by now was almost definitely an irredeemable mess. “Hello. You must be Bill.”

“Hot.”

“Sorry?” Clara frowned, circling the console and leaving the Doctor gasping and speechless behind her. The girl stood before her was stood with her mouth agape and her eyes wide, and Clara resisted the urge to giggle.

“You’re... blimey. Are you the girlfriend?” 

“I might be,” Clara teased. “Why? Has he been talking about me?”

“He-”

“Bill,” the Doctor growled playfully, apparently recovering the power of speech and holding up a warning finger. “Don’t show me up, yeah?”

“Well, he did - does - but he never mentioned you were this hot. Bloody hell.” 

“Did he not?” Clara turned and arched an eyebrow at the stricken-looking Time Lord. “How rude of you.”

“Yeah, alright,” he groused. “Bill, this is Clara. Clara, Bill.”

“Can she travel with us?” Bill asked. “Please, indulge my hopeless gay desires. Please.”

“Well,” Clara grinned, jumping in before the Doctor could respond. “How could I say no to an invitation like that?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	273. Chapter 273

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Missy makes a surprising confession to her younger self.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _The Master and Missy discuss their past and their complicated relationships with the Doctor's companions. Probably set during the two weeks on the farm in The Doctor Falls._

“You seem to tolerate this one.”

It wasn’t a question - more of a statement, or a recognition of fact. Missy knew precisely who was being referred to, even though no names had been given, and she felt her hearts lurch uncomfortably. She looked over at her younger counterpart, unsure of how to respond.

“Well,” she began, giving a nervous little laugh to disguise her uncertainty. “I was in that vault for a long time.”

“What does that have to do with Robocop?” 

“Well,” Missy shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “She visited. She brought me things to do - girly things, nice things, not like his rubbish attempts at gifts. She was nice. _Is_ nice.” 

“She’s a Cyberman.”

“And whose fault was that?” 

“Once, you’d have found this funny. What happened to you? You’ve gone all... soft.”

“I’ve grown,” Missy hissed. “And I’ve changed. I hate what you’ve done to that girl.” 

“Dear God,” the Master rolled his eyes. “I won’t be leaving you unattended with Gramps again.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	274. Chapter 274

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a turn up for the books.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _With the Royal Wedding coming up, the Doctor and Clara watch it and then get a little drunk they awake to find themselves married to each other on an alien planet. Both are shocked and embarrassed by this. Maybe a little humour in there please? And maybe a little joke about River being jealous?_

“Well,” Clara sat up, clutching the sheets around herself all the more closely and trying to piece together her memories of the previous night. “That’s the last time I get drunk with you.”  
“What...” the Doctor swallowed, scooting into an upright position and chancing a glance under the sheets. “OK. Clothes are... not a thing.”

“Apparently not.”

“So, did we...”

“So it would seem,” Clara arched an eyebrow, then held up her hand to draw his attention to the piece of jewellery sparkling there. “And apparently this is a thing too.”

“But that’s...” the Doctor’s eyes widened in horror, and Clara fought the urge to laugh. “That’s a wedding ring.”

“Yes, it is.”

“We were only watching the royal wedding, I didn’t think we’d actually end up getting involved! You’ve got to give that back to Meghan!”  
“I think...” Clara dropped her gaze to the sheets. “I think it might be mine. I think we might’ve... tied the knot.”

“Oh, Christ,” the Doctor groaned. “Oh, bloody hell.”

“Hey!” Clara hit him with a pillow. “Shut up, I’m not that bad!”

“You’re not!” he concurred. “But oh hell, River is going to go mental...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	275. Chapter 275

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor is losing a battle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _The Doctor stops an alien parasite but it infects him, although he doesn't know at first, and he starts hearing a voice... He knows something is wrong. It's molding with the Doctor. "We are the hybrid."_

“What is this?” the Doctor gasped aloud, but of course there was no response - how could there be? Whatever it was that was affecting him, it was inside him. Every fibre of his being burned, and he could feel his synapses screaming in agony as the unknown assailant infected him, cell by cell.

“Get out of me,” he growled, as though a verbal warning might have some impact on the unknown parasite. “You have no idea what you’re meddling with.”

There was a sharp stab of pain, and he felt his vision begin to go dark as he crumpled to the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	276. Chapter 276

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara meets Jo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From lattelaurel's prompt:
> 
> _Clara Oswald meets Jo (Grant)-Jones and Kate Stewart upon visiting UNIT._

"You must be Clara Oswald,” the unfamiliar woman said warmly, stepping forward and pulling Clara into an unexpected but not unpleasant hug. “It’s a real joy to meet you, Kate has hardly shut up about you for months.”

“Jo, don’t embarrass me,” Kate rolled her eyes fondly at the older woman. “I do have other topics of conversation, you know.”

“Do you?” Jo tipped her a playful wink. “Clara, I’m Jo. I travelled with the Doctor, many years ago, but now I’m more of a... well, I think Sarah-Jane once called me a ‘space grandma,’ and I can fully get on board with that as a title.” 

“I like that,” Clara grinned. “Space Grandma.” 

“Now, who’s for a cup of tea and a catch up?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	277. Chapter 277

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Osgood has a dream - one the Doctor doesn't need to know about. And yet... he does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Osgood has a dream about marrying the Eleventh Doctor, somehow Twelve finds out and winds her up about it._

“Really?” the Doctor wrinkled his nose in surprised amusement. “The one with the bow-tie?”

Osgood turned a violent shade of maroon, looking down at her laptop and wishing fervently for the ground to open up and swallow her. Why had she told Kate about that dream? Why had Kate told the Doctor himself? 

“He was...” she fished around for the correct adjective - one that wouldn’t cause offence or upset. “Nice.”

“I’m nice!”

“You are,” she stammered. “But he was... well, the first one I met and he was lovely and the dream was very-”

“It wasn’t an inappropriate dream, was it?” 

If anything, she felt herself turn a darker shade of scarlet. 

“I am going to kill Kate,” she vowed. “Resoundingly.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	278. Chapter 278

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor has no time for being patronised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt: 
> 
> _Teenage school Doctor Who drabble request please? The Doctor is a student who constantly draws places to travel to because he is unnaturally smart, Clara, Bill and Nardole are his companions as they often skip classes whilst Missy and the Master like to cause mischief._

“Doctor,” the headmistress looked over at him with a kind, considerate expression - the kind that usually indicated that someone was about to patronise him. “You’re a very smart lad, but you need to start applying yourself. These doodles-” she held up his book of drawings, and he had to fight the urge to snatch it back. “-are very good, but they’re not going to get you a nice, stable career. Your little friend - Clara, isn’t it? - she’s applying to university, she wants to be a teacher. Why don’t you give that a go, hm? You could teach Maths, or Physics, or maybe even drawing.”

“Don’t wanna be a teacher,” he muttered sulkily. “Want to travel.”

“That’s very nice, dear,” she hummed, her smile growing a little more strained. “But that isn’t really a career option, is it?”

“It’s more of a career option than Missy or Harry’s.”

The headmistress’s expression soured. “Yes,” she said tartly. “Well, we don’t need to start talking about what everyone else is doing, do we? Go and have a think about jobs, dear. Proper ones. Sensible ones.”

“Fine.”

“Good lad. Off you pop.”

The Doctor took the proffered sketchbook she held out to him and then slunk out of the room, rolling his eyes as he went.

“How did it go?” Missy asked, pushing herself off the wall outside the office and falling into step beside him.

“It would’ve gone on a lot longer if I hadn’t brought you up.”

“See, Thete? Telling the headmistress you want to be an international criminal mastermind with a sideline in assassination is _always_ a good use of your time.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	279. Chapter 279

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor runs into an old friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _The Doctor travels to an old land he heard of in fairytales growing up. He seeks to keep the mysterious Vale of Frakonus away from those seeking to use it for evil. However he runs into an old immortal friend, who appears to no longer be working for Torchwood._

“Jack?” the Doctor blinked a few times, his tense posture relaxing as he recognised his old friend. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Jack frowned, and the Doctor watched as the penny dropped and an enormous grin crept over the American’s face. “Doctor?!”

“The very same,” the Doctor couldn’t help but smile, although his expression wavered as Jack enfolded him into a bone-crushing hug. “Ow.”

“Damn, I am _loving_ the silver fox look!” Jack enthused, stepping back and giving him a thorough visual appraisal. “Very... distinguished.”

“Thanks,” the Doctor said drily. “I repeat... what are you doing in the Vale?” 

“Ah,” Jack’s grin flickered, then faded. “Would you believe me if I said a holiday?”

“No.”

“Right,” Jack nodded sagely. “Well, I’ll think of another excuse, then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	280. Chapter 280

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Missy runs into a fellow Time Lady.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Missy meets the Rani in an elevator when both plan on taking over the same place._

“ _You_ ,” Missy hissed. “What in the name of Rassilon are _you_ doing here?”

“I’m here to invade,” the Rani rolled her eyes. “Obviously. Why else would I be in this backwater shithole?”

“I don’t know,” Missy smirked. “I was assuming you live here, it’s very much your sort of place.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“That it’s the kind of stuffy, up-its-own-arse place that you’d call home,” Missy blinked at her fellow Time Lady innocently. “What did you think I meant?”

“Look,” the Rani tossed her hair impatiently. “Are you going to keep bickering with me, or are you going to sod off and let me take over in piece?”

“Am I hell.”

There was a brief, tense pause, and then both women lunged at the same time. Their lips collided, the Rani backing Missy against the wall of the lift and nipping her lower lip as she did so. When the two of them eventually broke apart, they were both smirking, their lipstick smeared off.

“Well,” the Rani ran a thumb over her lower lip before examining it with curiosity. “You’ve got much better at that in the past few centuries.”

“Want to know what else I’ve got better at?”

“Gods, yes.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	281. Chapter 281

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara was always going to be there at the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From allnewtpir's prompt:
> 
> _For your considerations; we're at the end of TUAT. What if the Clara seen wasn't the Testimony but the genuine article?_

It had taken months of planning. Clara hadn’t been entirely sure, not to start with, but the girl with the star in her eye and her devoted companion had been convinced that it was the right thing to do. They’d tried to explain it all to her, something about living glass and testimonies, but their enthusiasm had rendered them largely incomprehensible, so she’d just nodded and gone along with their plan.

She’d known it would be difficult - there was not only the manoeuvring of the TARDIS to consider, but fixing the chameleon circuit and making sure she looked as she did on that final day together. She’d known it would be difficult, too, to stand in front of the Doctor and try to sound upbeat, but she hadn’t expected this. She hadn’t expected to see the way his broken and dying body lit up, reinvigorated, when he saw her. She hadn’t expected the sorrowful smile, or the banter that was so heavily clouded by pain that it nearly drove her to tears. 

She couldn’t let him be alone, not in those last few minutes. She slipped into the TARDIS behind him and waited on the lower levels, feeling her heart ache as she heard his final goodbyes. She wanted to go to him, to comfort him and hold him in her arms, but she knew the dangers involved. She might not be able to die, but an eternity of a broken heart would be too much to bear.

When his ring clattered to the floor, she chanced a glance upwards. The voice that came next was unexpected, but not unwelcome.

Then the TARDIS gave an almighty lurch, and everything was thrown into disarray.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	282. Chapter 282

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor liberates a tin dog.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _The Doctor meets K9 for the first time and they plan their escape from the robot overlords?_

“Listen here,” the Doctor crouched low, the folds of his scarf heaping up atop the bizarre metal creature in front of him. “I reckon we might be in with half a chance, but you have to do as I say.”

“Affirmative, master.”

“I’m not your master,” he tried - and failed - to scowl at the tin dog, finding himself oddly fond of the machine already. “I’m rescuing you.”

“Affirmative, master.”

“Order one of the day,” he decided aloud, more for his own benefit than the robot’s. “Once back at the TARDIS, fix dog.” 

“Affi-”

“Shush, or we’re going to get caught.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	283. Chapter 283

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is quite the predicament.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Eleven and Amy swap bodies so Amy has to be the Doctor while the Eleventh Doctor misses looking cool._

“Oh, my god,” Amy - not-Amy. Amy in his body. Whatever. - said with abject horror. “I’m you.”

“You could sound a bit more enthralled to find yourself with two hearts and an awareness of all of time and space,” he scowled, trying not to feel overly insulted. “Meanwhile, I’m stuck with one heart and... something... is that PMT? Is this PMT? Is this why you’re so angry all the time?”

“No, that’s my Scottishness. Welcome to being human, sunshine.”

“It’s...” he wrinkled his nose, and she thwacked him in the arm. “Ow!”

“Stop being rude about my species! And my nationality, and my body! It’s a good body! I grew it myself!” 

“Bit vain.”

“Well, I look good. You look good. Whatever. I’m just all hair and chin and tweed now.”

“What’s wrong with that?” he pouted. “Besides, my chin isn’t that big.” 

“It’s quite large,” Amy stuck a hand into the inner pocket of her jacket. “Hang on, are you telling me these things are bigger on the inside? What else have you got in here?”

“...spoilers.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	284. Chapter 284

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Past, present and future. Just not here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _The Doctor is trapped in the pool of time on Gallifrey, he's not seen the universe yet as he's young but he starts to have flash backs to his time seeing the vortex at 8 and also flashes of his future which freak him out but also confirm his destiny._

The Doctor wasn’t sure where he was. Not at first, at least, although the longer he floated, the more that realisation began to dawn on him. There were flashes of faces and snippets of voices flickering around him, too fleeting to fully grasp, and he realised that this was... him. His timelines, past and future, bending and shaping around him as he drifted aimlessly across the pool. There was a dark haired woman and a blonde; a man with a goatee and a woman in purple; a tin dog and a yellow car - flashes of a life yet to be lived. He wouldn’t be able to retain these memories, but he would recall enough to confirm to him what he already knew: his future lay far away from Gallifrey. He needed one thing, and that was to leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	285. Chapter 285

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Man Who Stops the Monsters. The Technology Monsters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _The Doctor isn't a time traveller, rather he is a man who stops monsters in people's nightmares with his companion Clara, who he once saved from a technology nightmare._

“It’s alright,” Clara said softly, resting her hand on the woman’s arm. “He knows what he’s doing.”

“Does he?” the woman chewed her lip, her eyes flickering from the Doctor to her daughter, lying prone on her bed, and back again. “Because right now, he looks mental.”

Clara had to admit that the woman had a point. The Doctor’s visor was made of cobbled-together pieces of other, better visors, soldered together with odds and ends he’d found in junk heaps, and today he looked especially deranged, with his hair in need of a cut and a comb. But this woman was desperate, and broke, and the Doctor charged only what he saw fit - which was not a lot, in this woman’s case. 

“He saved me,” Clara smiled encouragingly. “So I promise you, he can save Melody.”

“I hope so,” Amy breathed. “God, I hope so.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	286. Chapter 286

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor gets his hopes up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _The Doctor arrives one day at Amy's house, only to find her dressed up as Batgirl. He doesn't realise its Amy till Rory comes in and he geeks out thinking that Batgirl is real and also confused she isn't in Gotham._

“Batgirl?” the Doctor was not an easily impressed man (with the exception of all aspects of life on Earth, because humans were exceptionally impressive) but this was... something else entirely. He’d seen the comics and heard the rumours, but this was just... well, if he didn’t know better, he’d describe himself as star-struck. “What are you doing here? Is there something wrong with Pond?” 

Before Batgirl could respond, the living room door opened and Rory stepped inside, dressed as Batman and holding up a black rubber fancy dress mask. “How am I meant to breathe in- oh, Doctor. We weren’t expecting you today.” 

“I...” the Doctor felt his excitement dissipate as he realised the truth of the matter. “Oh. Amy, you’re only dressed as Batgirl. She’s... she’s not real. But I knew that. I mean, obviously I knew that.”

“Doctor...” she mumbled, taking off her mask and shooting him an apologetic look. “Sorry for bursting your bubble.”

“It’s alright,” the Doctor said magnanimously. “Got any spare specs? I do a mean Superman impression. Nice man, Superman. Awkward, but very endearing. There was this one time I went to visit him on Krypton and ended up skinny-dipping with his cousin... he was very polite about it...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	287. Chapter 287

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Queen of Evil and the Woman Who Lived.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Ashildr meets Missy._

“Sorry, you are?” 

The sullen-eyed teenage girl’s scowl only intensified in response to Missy’s question. “I’m Me.” 

“Yes, and who’s that?”

“That’s my name. Me. M-E. Me.”

“You can’t be called ‘Me,’ it’s a personal pronoun.”

“Well, I am,” the girl rolled her eyes, and Missy considered killing her on the spot just for showing such insolence. “Who are you, anyway?”

“Mistress of Darkness, Queen of Evil, Batshit Insane Megalomaniacal Genocidal Lunatic, the Original Mary Poppins, That Bitch, or, if you prefer, just plain old Missy would do just fine.”

“You’re weird.”

“And you’re rude, let’s not dwell.” 

“You can’t be Queen of Evil,” Me pointed out. “It’s not an actual place.”

“Is too,” Missy said with mock affront. “Look, I’d be ‘Queen of Gallifrey,’ but it’s a rather pants planet and no one of your species knows about it anyway, so ‘Queen of Evil’ is much more impressive sounding.”

“I know about Gallifrey,” Ashildr smirked. “And the Doctor, and his companion.”

“Well,” Missy returned the wolfish grin. “Not seeing you as sandwiches now.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	288. Chapter 288

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This outfit is... interesting, to say the least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Clara and Missy help Thirteen choose her outfit and at the end she picks something neither of them approve._

“No,” Clara said sternly, raising her eyebrows at the new-but-old Doctor stood in front of them and trying to adopt her best teacher-like manner. “You are absolutely not wearing braces.”

“What’s wrong with braces?” the Doctor pouted, giving them a pleased little twang. “I like them.” 

“Yes, but Doctor, you’ve already worn them once before.”

“Well, I’m over two thousand years old, Clara. I’m going to repeat outfits sometime, so why not repeat braces? They’re fun.”

“Doctor,” Missy said with surprising gentleness. “They’re yellow. Is yellow a good idea?”

“Yellow is a wonderful idea. Heavily underrated colour,” the Doctor grinned with glee. “Besides, look! My hair’s yellow now. I match.”

“I...” Clara didn’t have the heart to argue with the Time Lady and her child-like enthusiasm, so she only nodded. “OK. Yellow braces it is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	289. Chapter 289

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Detective Extraordinaire, that's her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Clara Oswald, one of the best detectives in Glasgow, and her young assistant (and secret crush) John Smith face off against Clara's arch enemy, the criminal mistress known as Bill Potts and her sidekick, Mr Frobisher, who looks like the actor Peter Capaldi._

"C... Clara?” John panted, doubling over as he stood before her desk and wheezed. He had obviously run to the office in a great hurry, but she didn’t have the faintest idea why. “L... look.”

He dropped the local newspaper in front of her, gesturing to the front page with a shaking hand.

_Local philanthropist John Frobisher donates £2 million to children’s cancer centre._

“Aw,” Clara deadpanned. “How nice of him. Who did he murder to come up with that little sum?” 

“Clara,” John said urgently. “I think something big is coming, and we need to stop it.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Clara concurred, already reaching for her motorcycle helmet. “Let’s go over to Potts’ HQ and see if anything tasty is happening.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	290. Chapter 290

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two rebels with a cause.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _The Master and Bonnie spend some time together? Maybe the Master likes what he sees in a Zygon? Maybe Bonnie likes what see she's in a time Lord? Maybe they don't? Or maybe they can't work together?_

“You really are deliciously obnoxious,” Bonnie said, leaning back against the kitchen counter and surveying the Time Lord stood before her with a smirk. “Much more so than that other one.”

“The Doctor?” The Master scoffed dismissively. “He’s boring. Always was a goodie two-shoes, and old before his time. It’s rather fitting he’s finally looking the age he always was inside.”

“Mm,” Bonnie concurred, licking her lips and raising an eyebrow suggestively. “Now...”

“Yes?” the captivated renegade Time Lord leaned closer, visibly in her thrall, and her knee came up and connected with his crotch before he had time to process what was going on. 

“That’s for being a sexist piece of shit,” her fist connected with his chin. “And that’s for threatening my friends.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	291. Chapter 291

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He might be a genius, but he can still be very dim sometimes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From [Alex's](http://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSaddleman/pseuds/TheSaddleman) prompt:
> 
> _The Doctor has lost his sonic sunglasses and can't find them anywhere. Maybe he's worried Missy's got hold of them. Sonic specs in the wrong hands... Clara tries to tell him - without making him feel silly - that they're just perched on top his head._

“Clara,” the Doctor said with great urgency, reaching for the lapels of her blazer and then apparently thinking better of it. “Clara, you’re good at finding things, aren’t you?”

“Urm,” she blinked a couple of times, disconcerted by the question. “You know, usually it’s polite to greet me with ‘hello,’ but yes, I suppose I’m alright at it. Why?”

“I can’t find the sonic specs,” he said sadly. “I’ve looked everywhere, and I need them. There’s a fluid link that’s playing up and I need to examine it, but I can’t do it without them. We might all get blown to kingdom come.”

“You...” she swallowed a laugh. “You’ve looked everywhere?”

“Yes,” he was all but wailing now. “Everywhere! They’re a marvel of design... and I’ve lost them!” 

“Have you looked... close to home?”

“Yes! I’ve looked around the entire TARDIS, and nothing!”

“How close to home have you looked?”

“Very!”

“How very?”

“Why?” he lifted a hand to run it through his hair, and discovered the missing specs perched atop his head. His look of despair was replaced by one of bemusement. “You could have just told me they were there, you know.”

“Where would the fun have been in that?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	292. Chapter 292

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is certainly... unusual.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt: 
> 
> _Doctor Who AU drabble, where Clara is an attorney and the Doctor’s (12) character is the client._

“So, let me get this straight,” Clara leaned back in her chair, steepling her fingers and eyeing up the potential client sat across from her. He looked to be in his late fifties, and he’d been ruffling his silver curls nervously every few minutes since he’d arrived. “You want me to represent you... why?” 

“Because my sister has cleared me out,” he said hoarsely, looking up at her with nothing but pain in his expression. “She had access to everything - the business accounts, my personal accounts, my savings. I trusted her implicitly. And now... this.”

“Not to seem harsh, but why should I get involved, though? Seems like a pretty cut and dry case - she’s fleeced you, mate.”

“Because she’s not done this of her own volition,” he confessed, his voice little more than a whisper. “This was all Harry. I can tell.”

“Who?”

“Harry. Saxon. Her ex. A real piece of work.”

“So, you think she was... what? Coerced?”

“Manipulated, yes. It’s not her I want to go after. It’s him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	293. Chapter 293

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He was expecting the Queen of Time to be taller.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _The Doctor is hunted by a monster that seeks to erase him from time due to his constant meddling; to stop the monster he must face the Queen of Time. Travelling to a forbidden zone, he faces the Queen. Her name is Clara Oswald and she won't go down without a fight._

“You...” the Doctor blinked a few times, trying to reconcile the rumours and stories he’d heard with the petite woman stood before him. “You know, you’re not exactly what I was anticipating.”

“Well, nor are you,” the Queen of Time shot back, rolling her eyes with barely-concealed disdain for his remark. “I was expecting you to be... I don’t know... younger?” 

“Well I was, once,” he raised his eyebrows pointedly. “I was expecting you to be much... well, taller.”

“You don’t have to be tall to be evil,” she said in a bored voice, examining her blood-red nails contemptuously. “Case point: me.”

“Yeah, about that...” he sighed. “I can’t let you carry on like this, you know.”

“Oh, I do.”

“So, I should probably stop you.”

“Yes, you really should.” 

“I...” he frowned. “Wait, what?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	294. Chapter 294

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The TARDIS is just a machine... right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _You know in Human Nature when Martha says hello to the TARDIS and then comments that she's talking to a machine, before watching the Doctor's instructions? Could you maybe write a bit after that when she goes to leave but the TARDIS stops her and somehow tells her she's more than a machine?_

“Hello,” Martha said warmly, then mentally shook herself. It wasn’t a pet, or a person. The ship was exactly that: a ship. “...I’m talking to a machine.”

There was a sort of... well, if she didn’t know better, she’d have classed it as an indignant beeping noise. Surely the TARDIS couldn’t understand her? She knew the time machine could understand the Doctor, but Martha was just... boring. Human. Not a Time Lord, or anything interesting like that.

More beeping, chastising this time. 

“You can, can’t you?” Martha asked softly. “Understand me. Hear me. Hear my... thoughts,” she blushed as she realised the implications of her words. “Ah.”

There was a distinct and fleeting sensation of being laughed at, before it passed and was replaced with a feeling of fondness.

“Well, I like you too,” she said, raising her chin. “You’re not half bad, as time machines go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	295. Chapter 295

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a truly mad idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Osgood/Bonnie is forced to team up with the Master (who UNIT have managed to capture, and threaten to take him out without the chance to regenerate with a special chip) and a reformed Cyberman. Together they form a special team known only as Team Shadow._

“This is a ridiculous idea,” Bonnie folded her arms, glaring across the room at her apparent new colleague and feeling only a sense of revulsion for the man. “I’m not working with you. You’re insane.”

“Didn’t you recently start an uprising intended to cause mass panic and ensure your own race’s superiority over humanity?” the Master shot back, arching an eyebrow in a silent challenge. “Because you know... pot, kettle, black.”

“I’m reformed.”

“So am I, sweetheart.” 

“Don’t call me sweetheart.”

The door to the meeting room opened and both Bonnie and the Time Lord scrambled backwards instinctively, their argument forgotten as they took in the sight of an approaching Cyberman, its arm extended towards them. 

“Do - not - be - alarmed,” it droned. “I - have - been - re - programmed.” 

Kate Stewart appeared in the doorway behind it, grinning madly.

“So, gang,” she said with enthusiasm. “What do you all make of each other?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	296. Chapter 296

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This isn't how it's supposed to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Clara is on the run from UNIT and the Doctor isn't around to help. The question is: why did someone frame her for stealing arguably the most dangerous weapon on the planet?_

_You’ve reached the Doctor. I can’t take your call right now because I’m probably off fighting aliens or saving your planet. Again. And even if it’s not your planet, it’s someone else’s. Really, why can’t the universe just stay safe? Anyway. Leave a message. I probably won’t call you back unless you’re Clara._

“Doctor, it’s me. God, I don’t know where you are or what you’re doing but please, please, I need your help. Can you please call me back? Or come and get me? Something’s gone wrong and UNIT think I’ve taken something called an Osterhagen Key and I have no idea what it is but they’re after me. Even Kate. Even Bonnie. Please. You need to help me explain that it’s all been a misunderstanding. Doctor, pl-”

“Clara Oswald, exit the building with your hands up. We have a team of snipers positioned around the exits; any attempts to resist being taken into custody will result in your immediate termination.”

Turning her head towards the window, Clara started to cry.

“Doctor, please. Save me.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	297. Chapter 297

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alien medicine is really not Clara's strong point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
>  
> 
> _The Doctor ends up suffering post-concussion syndrome. Clara is especially worried when he begins to struggle during his adventures. But the Doctor won't stop or rest like he should risking making himself worse._

“Doctor, you need to rest,” Clara pleaded for what seemed like the thousandth time that day, taking his hand and trying to tug him insistently back towards the living room. “You hit your head pretty hard, you can’t just keep running around like nothing happened.”

“I’m a Time Lord,” he said with a weary sense of superiority, although he allowed himself to be towed into the lounge and installed on the sofa. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re flagging,” she looked down at him with concern. “I don’t really know how to treat aliens with concussion, though.”

“I do not have concussion, Amy.”

Clara arched an eyebrow as he blinked up at her with a triumphant expression.

“See? M’fine.” 

“You’re not fine. I’m calling Kate.”

“Ach, don’t-”

“Shut up and stay put.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	298. Chapter 298

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> River always knows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From allnewtpir's prompt:
> 
> _I was curious as to how the events of "The Husbands of River Song" would've played out if Clara was there._

“I know you’re worried about getting back to Clara,” River intimated, reaching over the table and putting her hand on her husband’s. He almost flinched at the physical concept, but held back at the last second. She would have to thank his most recent companion for that development. “But really. Can’t we just enjoy tonight?”

The Doctor blinked at her, his brow furrowing in genuine confusion. “How...”

“I always know,” she reminded him. “And I can’t say I blame you. She’s a lovely woman, from what I recall. Pretty, too.” She tipped him a wink, and he blushed.

“Well... I... urm... that is to say... urm...”

“Doctor, I don’t begrudge you for having fallen in love again.” 

“Well, maybe you should.” 

“Why?” she frowned. “It’s not as though we both haven’t fallen in love before. Need I remind you about your past? Or mine?”

“I just...” he sighed. “I feel like I’m disrespecting you.” 

“Doctor,” she breathed, smiling sadly. “I don’t feel disrespected. I feel glad to know that you will have someone after I’m gone.”

“I don’t...” his voice cracked. “I don’t want to think about that.”

“Well then,” she lifted her glass and took a sip of champagne. “Maybe we should just focus on enjoying tonight.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	299. Chapter 299

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill Potts, Hopeless Gay Disaster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From pearlmackiefanatic's prompt:
> 
> _Bill is about to be forcibly married to a beautiful alien princess and the Doctor is trying to save her, but she isn't sure she wants to be saved._

“Bill, come on,” the Doctor said urgently, holding out his hand to his companion and casting a furtive glance around them. “We need to go.”

“Why?” his companion furrowed her brow and shifted from foot to foot, brushing a non-existent speck of dirt off her improvised wedding dress. “What’s the big deal with this whole thing?”

“Xanthippa is an incredibly powerful alien. She could kill you without even meaning to.” 

“But...” Bill dithered, chewing on her lip. “She’s...”

“She’s what?” the Doctor sighed, not understanding her reticence. “Bill, come on! You can’t seriously be considering this!” 

“But she’s kind of...” Bill turned maroon. “Cute, y’know...”

“Dear god,” the Doctor groaned. “You are an absolute disaster.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	300. Chapter 300

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Graham has a couple of questions for the Doctor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _13 and Graham chat about the Sonic screwdriver in a chippy._

“You know,” Graham popped a chip into his mouth and chewed on it thoughtfully. “Have you considered that your sonic thing looks a bit...” he gestured vaguely.

“What?” the Doctor shoved a handful of chips into her mouth and frowned at him as she chewed. “A bit what?” 

He blushed furiously, dropping his gaze to the cracked Formica tabletop. “You know.”

“No, I don’t know,” she swallowed with difficulty and took the offending item out of her pocket, twirling it between her fingers like a baton. “What’s wrong with it? I made it myself.”

“For what function?” Graham muttered, at a volume that humans wouldn’t have been able to hear. “After-dark fun?” 

“Oi!” she exclaimed, almost dropping the sonic in affront. “What’s that meant to mean?”

He turned a violent shade of maroon and began to splutter in embarrassment. “You...” he mumbled. “You need to stop being so... so...”

“So...?” she asked, gearing up to be mortally offended.

“Alien.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	301. Chapter 301

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a somewhat unexpected confession, to say the least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Amy Pond yelling at another female companion (you decide the name) for trying to save her life. Ends in "because I'm in love with you" confession. nice and gay pls x_

“Look, can you just listen to me?!” Jess screamed, seizing hold of Amy’s arms and shaking her so hard her teeth rattled. Around them, flames licked at the walls and there was a faint judder under their feet that signalled that the floors below were imploding. “If we don’t do this, we’re going to die!”

“Don’t tell me what to do!” Amy shouted back, trying to squirm away and failing. “You’re not my mother, and you’re not-”

“I’m not what?”

“You’re not _him!_ You don’t get to tell me what to do!”

“I’m trying to save your bloody life, and not just yours, but mine too!”

“Why?” Amy raised her eyebrows, her expression wide and uncomprehending. “Why are you so bothered about my life?”

“Why aren’t you?”

“Answer my question!” 

“Because I’m in love with you!”

There was half a beat of silence.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. Now can we please focus on saving our arses?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	302. Chapter 302

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At the end of a long day, there's nothing better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Twelve/Clara cuddling in bed please._

“That was really something today,” Clara breathed, nuzzling her head into the Doctor’s chest and feeling his arm settle, warm and reassuring, over her shoulders. His thumb started brushing a warm, slow pattern over the soft skin of her arm, and she allowed herself to truly exhale. “Thought we weren’t going to make it.”

He chuckled, the sound low and warm, his torso vibrating softly under her cheek as he did so. “When have I ever let you down?”

“I mean... there was that time you left me in Glasgow, for a start.”

“Hey!” he sounded genuinely affronted, and she pressed a reassuring kiss to his sternum. “That was accidental.”

“I know, daft old man,” she smiled. “I was teasing. I trust you. And I love you.”

“I love you too,” he murmured. “My impossible girl.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	303. Chapter 303

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She won't believe him. More fool her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt: 
> 
> _"I'm the Doctor, I trap the monsters that plague these streets and no English teacher is going to tell me her student didn't release one into Coal Hill."_

“No,” Clara leaned back against her desk and folded her arms, affixing him with a distinctly bemused stare - one that challenged him to argue. “That is not a thing.”

“Clara,” he took a deep breath, trying to keep his temper. “This is absolutely a thing. I don’t know which one of your pudding brains it was, but one of them has let a monster loose in the school.”

“As you are frequently telling me, Doctor,” she arched an eyebrow. “They lack the intelligence.”

The wrong-footed him temporarily. “Hang on,” he protested. “Aren’t you supposed to stick up for them?”

“Yes, but this is beyond their abilities,” she shrugged. “You’re being-”

“I'm the Doctor. I trap the monsters that plague this planet, and no English teacher is going to tell me that a student didn't release one into Coal Hill.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	304. Chapter 304

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's always the same old story, isn't it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Amy meets a girl on a planet and while the Doctor tries to save everyone, Amy and her fall in love, they kiss, and she asks her to come and travel with them._

“Please,” Amy implored, her voice little more than a whisper as she looked into her companion’s eyes and pleaded with her silently. “Please come with us.” 

“Amy...” Charlie’s voice hitched, and she lowered her gaze, but not before Amy realised that her eyes were full of tears. “I’ll just get in the way...”

“You won’t. He’s a Time Lord. He’s got an infinite time machine.”

“But on adventures...”

“You saved my life. And his! Twice!”

“If you’re sure...”

Amy leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to her lips. “I’ve never been surer of anything in my life.” 

“Alright,” Charlie let herself relax, wrapping her arms around Amy’s lips. “I’ll run away with you, Pond.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	305. Chapter 305

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's quite the development.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From allnewtpir's prompt:
> 
> _Vastra/Jenny/Strax come across 13/Clara and are happy about the glowup. Strax is confused as ever._

“This is...” Vastra paused, her eyes flicking between the two of them with a knowing look. Her gaze dropped to their clasped hands, and she smirked. “Quite the development.”

Clara wasn’t stupid. She recognised the look in Vastra’s eyes all too well, and she edged closer to the Time Lady at her side, meshing their fingers together and squeezing possessively.

“Yes,” she arched an eyebrow in Vastra’s direction. “It is. And might I remind you: married.”

“Are you?” Jenny squealed, clapping with veritable enthusiasm. “That’s wonderful!”

“No,” Clara rolled her eyes. “You two are. So your wife should probably stop eyeing up my better half.”

“Oh,” Jenny’s face clouded over, and she walloped her wife with her bag. “Oi! Behave yourself!”

“I do not understand,” Strax complained. “May I melt the stranger with acid?” 

“Best not,” the Doctor grinned. “Nice to see you, Potatohead.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	306. Chapter 306

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Howdy, partner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt: 
> 
> _Clara x the Doctor (Eleven or Twelve) drabble about them trying to ride horses in the Old West?_

“You know,” Clara shot the Time Lord beside her a teasing look. “I was expecting you to be worse at this, given your general lack of coordination.”

“Rude,” the Doctor feign being mortally wounded, and tipped his Stetson at her in mock affront, before confessing: “I’ve done it before, which might explain a lot. Plus I speak Horse.”

“Who’d you do it with? Anyone I need to be jealous of?” 

“Nah,” he shrugged. “She was about six foot. Ginger. Legs up to her ears. Not your type.”

“Very much my type,” Clara protested, and had they not been on horseback, she’d have elbowed him. “Still. You look cool. In a gangly sort of way.”

“Thanks,” he grinned, evidently pleased by the compliment. “So do you.”

“Yee-haw.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	307. Chapter 307

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gays in Space.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From bazwillendinflames's prompt:
> 
> _Bill as the Doctor, travelling with her companion grumpy Scottish professor John and his granddaughter Heather._

“Doctor,” John sighed, looking over the console at her and raising his eyebrows in exasperation. “Can you please, for ten seconds, stop checking out my granddaughter?”

“It’s not my fault she’s cute,” the Doctor argued, narrowing her eyes at him defensively but tearing her gaze away from where Heather was reading on the upper level. “And it’s not my fault you brought her along.”

“You said I could!”

“Mainly because I fancy her.”

“God, you’re hopeless. Pick your jaw up, or we’re going to end up on the wrong side of the universe again.” 

“That happened _once_.”

“Or twice. Or three or four or five or twenty times...”

“Shut up.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	308. Chapter 308

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Long lost princess? Sure, why not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From pearlmackiefanatic's prompt:
> 
> _Bill and the Doctor travel back to medieval times and Bill gets mistaken for the long lost princess, and one of the servants looks a lot like Heather._

“Alright, so,” Bill grinned over at her dining partner, determined to enjoy herself. “This is pretty excellent, I’m not gonna lie.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself,” the Doctor muttered sourly, stabbing a potato with his fork and then examining it with unnecessary scrutiny. “That makes one of us.”

“Come on,” Bill reasoned. “They think I’m their long-lost princess.”

“And they think I’m your grandfather.”

“You let me call you that when I moved!”  
  
“Yeah, but that was different!”

“How?!”

“It just was,” he said sulkily, shoving the potato in his mouth and chewing thoughtfully. “We should leave, and soon.”

“No chance. I’m royal, revered, and that serving girl is _cute_.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	309. Chapter 309

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Missy has an idea. A mad idea, but what else would it be?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From sparksearcher's prompt:
> 
> _Twelve somehow accidentally proposes to Clara, and Missy insists she's both the best woman and maid of honour since she set them up._

“Look,” Missy plonked herself down on Clara’s sofa, ignoring the bemused looks that the Doctor and Clara herself were shooting her and helping herself to some wine straight from the bottle. Not bad. She’d had worse. “All I’m saying is, consider it.”

“How did you even get into my flat?” Clara demanded to know, and Missy sighed impatiently. Humans were always rather slow on the uptake.

“Look, I have my ways. Stop changing the subject. I want to know my role in the impending nuptials.”

“There won’t be any nuptials,” the Doctor growled. “This has all been a mix-up.”

“There _will_ be some, because I said so. Come on, you’d save _so_ much money if you had me as best woman and maid of honour. You’d only have to pay for one outfit.”

“Hang on, who said anything about an outfit?!” the Doctor looked horrified by the mere prospect.

“Well, if Clara gets a frock, I want a frock.”

Clara perked up somewhat. “OK,” she mused. “We _may_ have to make this happen.”

“You mean my involvement?” Missy asked hopefully.

“No, I mean the wedding.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	310. Chapter 310

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jasmine doesn't know him, but he seems to know her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From lattelaurel's prompt:
> 
> _Twelve meets Jenna’s Emmerdale character._

“Clara?” 

Jasmine didn’t take much notice of the weird bloke across the road yelling her name. It happened a lot these days, and more often than not ended up with her having a scrap or a slanging match. She was keen to avoid those, and not just for probationary reasons.

“Clara!” 

Oh, god. The bloke was crossing the road and chasing after her now, and he looked like an angry owl. He had a mop of silver hair that bounced as he ran, and furious eyebrows that were knitted together with the exertion of chasing her down. She had two choices: stand and fight, or flee. She opted for the former.

“Clara!” he came to a halt in front of her and beamed, before appraising her and taking on a confused expression. “You look... different.”

“I dunno who Clara is,” she raised an eyebrow. “But I’m not her.”

“Oh,” his face fell, and she almost felt bad for disappointing him - although she was relieved that he wasn’t about to start anything. “Well. Urm. Nice to meet you, all the same.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	311. Chapter 311

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Irish meets Scottish. Mutual confusion ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _The Doctor is trapped in Dublin and whilst he is trying to get the TARDIS back complains that his temporary Irish Companion (you can name her) sounds weird and talks too fast whilst she tries to explain she can't always understand him either with his Scottish accent._

“Look,” the girl stood before him folded her arms and affixed him with a scowl. “You realise I can’t understand a damned word you’re saying, don’t you? Talking a mile a minute, and in that accent? Not a hope in hell.”

“What?” the Doctor frowned in blind incomprehension. “Slow down.”

“That _was_ slow!” Siobhan protested, flinging her arms in the air. “God, you bloody Scots, I knew you were all racist.”

“That is, in itself, quite racist. Also, I’m not Scottish.”

“Funny, because you sound it.”

“I’m from space.”

“And I’m the Queen of Sheba.”

“Why are you more understandable when you’re angry with me?” 

“I don’t know,” she shot back. “Maybe because anger is more universally understood than English?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


	312. Chapter 312

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As aliases go, this one was a bad choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt:
> 
> _Thirteenth Doctor has to sneak into somewhere but realises she can't use John Smith, instead of being logical and changing it to Jane she decides to use Amy's name only for the person to point out that they knew Amy and the Doctor isn't her._

“Urm,” the Doctor straightened up and tried not to look overly guilty. Kate’s expression only hardened by way of response. “Hello.”

“Hello,” the Chief Scientific Officer said brightly, affixing her with a curious look. “Who are you?” 

Honestly, the Time Lady didn’t know why she said it. Stupidity, possibly, or desperation. “Amy Pond.”

Kate snorted. “Nice try. Look, I don’t know who you are or why you’re trying to break into the Black Archive, but you sure as hell are not Amy Pond, so I’d suggest you stop lying to me before I put a bullet in you.”

“Kate, what is it with you and guns?”

“How do you know my name?”

“I’ve known you a very long time,” the Doctor smiled a fond smile. “It’s me, Kate. The Doctor.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to submit a request for a drabble, you can do so [here.](http://universe-on-her-shoulders.tumblr.com/ask)


End file.
